Looking at him by that door,
****.  
It hurts like your first baby tooth falling out.
A space left empty by something so familiar.
I can still feel the warmth of his pressure on my chest,
And boy, I miss it.
He looks like a kicked puppy when he has to leave,
But I feel like one.
And every night,
I turn the lock to the right then back to the left.
I can’t lock this door.
I can’t for fear that I’ll walk into my room
And he’ll run up,
Meeting a barrier which I allowed
To come between us,
And I can’t for hope that he will come back,
Arms open, jaw set crooked, biting his lip.