it hurts so bad.
i get spasms through me at every line.

imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou.

first night and i miss you.

i dont even see why i should sleep.

today i sprayed patrick with your cologne and lay in the dark. it sounds freaky.

miffed.

omission is not an untruth but it conceals as much.

sometimes the silence screams,

and you try to shout,

and try to look,

and then you realise

the silence is nothing

nothing at all.

then you stop,

and everything stops.

light touches

light touches

of the hand

remind me that you once called it a physical weakness.

and while they make me weak in the knees,

i don't feel weak without them,

though i'm much stronger with them.

such lightness

creates substance.

that absence isn't a loss, is something that the mind fathoms,

but doesn't easily accept.
separation from a usual comfort
brings along feelings of dispiritude

that are washed

away

by happier things.

devoid of

motion
of movement

and yet.
going somewhere.