What if I’m sitting here,
staring blankly,
feeling empty, carving poetry, reminiscing,
Checking for a whisper
of your presence, aching for the
Echoes of our laughter, the  2 AM midnight
Squeals and games, your ghost touches
marking my skin, my past seeping between the cracks
Of this present.

What if I’m sobbing, choking on the pain
lying awake at 3 AM
whilst you feel the
warmth of human companionship, the
buzz of subdued laughter, alcohol,
the flutter of new love and the promise
Of a future.


What if I’m stuck and

You’re moving.