I still look for you in every room I enter.

I have found myself
Perpetually disappointed.
But only once
Did I find you,
To which I found, myself, reluctant
To talk.

You are still in every room I enter.

The kitchen counter,
The comfy sofa,
My still ruffled and unwashed bed cover.
Like a hammer
Struck to the forefront of my mind,

You are the thing I look for but never hope to find.