In a daydream I've forgotten all the things I know I should have said while you sit folding papers into imaginary things.
I stumble quietly along my path without your hand to hold onto. I wished you wished that you were here but lucky stars are falling.
Your leaving can't hurt me if I choose not to witness it.  Your silence can't break me if it's not your  turn to speak. You're tired, I see it, in all the things we could have been. My eyesight is failing if you are not there to see.
Kissing fingers, dripping skin, only memories to comfort me. I wish that in my mind there was a switch to turn them off.
In my dreams I see you there with scissors in your hands. I can't tell what that means, you're an imaginary thing.