Today I screamed at the wall.
It was broad daylight.
I bet the neighbors heard.
I threw your pillowcase across the room.
I couldn't breathe.
I wonder if you do this too.
I slowly sunk to my knees.
It kind of felt like a prayer.
Lying on the floor I pull one of your letters close to me.
You called me starfish.
It still smells like you.
I can almost see you writing it in your horrible handwriting.
Five more weeks.
I have had this headache for three days now.
Stuck with writers block since I left.
Sometimes I can't close my eyes.
Your blue ones are so beautiful.
My heart still pounds in my ears.
I wonder if yours does too.
I must have memorized all of your letters by now.
It really hurts.
I try to claw my heart out sometimes.
I think I'm crazy.
You must be lying on this floor with me.
I can feel your thumb brush over my thumb.
Your heartbeat is slower than mine.
I'm not sure if I want to wrap you closer to me
Or push you away.
I could drown in your memory these days.
I'm afraid I won't get back up.
I wrap you closer of course.
I'm wearing your T-shirt.
And the smile you gave me once.
I've spent the day on the floor.
It's Sunday.
Pancake day.
You always made them the best.
I think I'll scream at the wall some more.
Nowadays I can't go to bed without a cup of tea.
*It kind of feels like your lips on mine.