It reeks of sadness in this room. I don't live in the same house, anymore but I still got your shirt. I look for you in every face I smile at every day, they come and go. So fast, that I wanted it to be you when I look away. Your smell lives in my head like a song I never liked, but the chorus screams your name, not the title.
I remembered when you clenched your teeth, to me, it sounded like the crickets outside my window that I never thought of closing. It's cold but I still had the door open for you.
and yet I thought,
there's nothing left to come home to.
the tore down the walls we used to draw on and built a higher one. the lights... there were none. Only the blue light coming from a phone so bright that I never thought of putting it down, in case you call.
the sunsets and the sun rises creating each day and each night and not once does it ask permission the night will still be pink with light pollution because of the single office illuminators, found in every breathing building the night shift family I never met, will still glow behind little screens or candle light thought bubbles and ink the morning will still spill coffee all over him but only on mondays, when he’s running late mondays will always come sunday mornings will still petition against alarm clocks and sunday, hereself, will always win it will rain and it won’t either way, without me a.m.