we listened to bon iver while i drove you home,
that final time.
i had a feeling it would be the end,
but i didn’t say goodbye.
now you’re too far gone,
nothing but a memory and impressions on my skin and the smell lingering on my clothes and the empty bottle of wine.
and those small things you left behind,
insignificant to you,
but they make up my whole world.
now i listen to bon iver as i pass that road,
and can never muster up a sufficient goodbye.