It takes fourteen days
to build a habit, they say.
Old conversations still feel so warm,
they recall thirteen stories I long to hear,
the twelve laughters we used to share.
At 11:11, "i would like to be with you
every single moment,"
ten words in repeat, nine times in a minute.
You broke it on the 8th,
and tried to not meet my eye.
Seven steps have never seemed so far
until we had the sixth goobye.
Five sleepless nights,
they're too much
for these four lullabies to fight.
There's nowhere else to go but off.
In three,
two,
it only takes one brave move
to break a habit, I would say.
It would be hard to move on from what you used to
