Dear Ex,

I have inhaled a thousand doubts
Exhaled a thousand pains
But through the course of my existence
Felt I never, a love quite the same.

Around me the air settles
As if it were
dust on weathered tattered discarded books
But it churns in whispered conversation
At the mere mention of your name.

The sheets of the bed are stained
With dried memories collected.
I haven't the heart to discard
in the hamper,
Later to evict them.


The car rides have homed silence
Who speaks more than I.
It strains my voice and my heart
To utter words, so all together
We utter sighs.

I haven't grown use to those final "Goodbyes"
It has always been "Talk to you later"
And "Until Next Time"
But now,

Now through my course of existing
I inhale doubts
and exhale pain.

An Emotionally distraught broken man,

Your Ex.

P.S
I have yet to experience a love equivalently the same.