Staring at the crescent shaped scar on your arm,
Smelling you, like outside, like old rain on the pavement.
You rub my back slowly and I fall asleep

Now. Sitting alone in the kitchen, sipping twice re-heated coffee,
Snow is melting off the grass, the sun beats down on us all,
Time is passing slowly.



We split and turn into different people, with each season, each time.
We come to know, what it is to wake up and feel sudden loneliness,
sudden silence from the voices in your dreams.

The phantom warmth around your body when you imagine the person is there.
But it is only their imprint in the sheets. Only old hairs they left behind from tossing and turning. You can only find their warn out socks in the garbage can, caked in blood from a hard walk to work.

Everyone leaves behind reminisce that you cannot return.


You take out the garbage, dump the coffee,
Talk to a few people that fill a gap, and they
Tell you how much they love you,

But it is nothing more than how it sounds when snow is covering the trees. When nature goes back to sleep, when the world becomes a white blur.

They are just words now, with no connection.
You say it back to be polite, you smile to ease the burden.


And maybe at one time you loved them too,

But for now, they just keep the days going.