On Monday, I waited for you to come back from the bathroom.
Most days, I feel like telling the stars they are ugly, Laughing heartily in the eye of a storm, and watering the rivers of the world until they, too, understand drowning.
Be with me now, be still. Most days, I still can't stand the sound of the doorbell ringing. I know you won't be calling. I don't even feel like me.
And this is how I miss you.
-I'll leave the light on, you'll have travelled a long way -m.c.