Nine forty- three.
I look at the clock and that's all I see.
It wouldn't be so grim
If it didn't remind me.
But those three digits
Are the start of your phone number
And that lobs me back into a cycle
I never desired to enter again.

And the damaging memories don't resurface
Just the gleeful things manage to pull through.
And I find myself
Relearning to miss all that was you.