I put on your deodorant when I was
getting ready for work because I wanted
to smell like you.
I knew it would be the last time your
scent followed me.
Like the last time I would lay with you,
or kiss you
or touch you.
Missing you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,
and I have to do it again.
I know I’ll be okay in 6 months but
right now, I’m not.