The sun begins to rise.
It’s too early to be awake.
Grabbing my keys,
I start towards the car.

Not one hour of sleep,
Tears held back.
Trying to be strong.
Driving across town.

Stop lights and morning traffic,
The only obstacles slowing me down.
Pulling in the drive way.
Your mom greets me at the door.

Walking up on the porch,
She pulls me in her arms.
A single tear escapes,
And slides down my cheek.

Holding the door for me,
I walk inside.
She asks me how I slept.
I tell her, “not one bit.”

My bed isn’t right.
It’s meant for two.
You’re half a world away.
And I’m here, just thinking about you.

After a couple sips of coffee,
And some minutes of loud silence,
I stand up,
And walk to the stairs.

At the top and to the right,
Your room is stationed at the end.
I open the door,
And your scent hits me hard.

Walking to your closet,
I pull out one of your button-ups.
I wrap it around myself,
And grab another shirt.

I go over and sit on your bed,
Hugging the extra shirt to my chest.
Smelling your sweet scent,
And begin to cry.

A million tears,
Finally flooding out.
Heavier sobs escaping,
Until I lay down on my side,
My head resting on your pillow.