what you don't know
is that amongst the midnight hours of slumber
my fingers still subconsciously reach
for your skin
and I want to dive down under
twelve blankets and a comforter
with you
and do some 2 a.m soul searching
what you don't know
is that your name still manages to fall out of my mouth every single morning when the six o'clock sunshine streaks my face
its almost as warm as your touch was
and when people ask my how I've been I feel like the biggest compulsive liar on the planet as I more or less continuously state that I'm okay
I'm not okay
its getting harder every day to put the pieces of your face back together in my head
I'm not okay
and your voice sounds a little different each time I try to replay it in my mind
its been years since I've heard you say my name
I'm not okay
I miss you every day
but you probably don't miss me at all
and no, I am not okay