It's 5:13  a.m. and the only thing on my mind is a cigarette, and the thought of holding your poorly circulated hand.
The sound of you saying "I love you" still echoes through the newly formed holes in my heart that I know too well.
Oh god, those three words coming from you is the difference between hell and home.
It's those three words that took the breath from my chest so quickly I could never tell if you were coming or going.
You're not here, so I guess I finally figured it out.
-h