I still talk to you when you’re not here.
I see your shadow in my empty bedroom, lovely and dark cast upon blue walls.
Your pale skin is touching the glass windows of my mind and I hear you.
I hear every word you aren’t really speaking, translucent.
My bathroom lights turn on and in the mirror I see your eyes, luminescent.
The water runs into the sink and it sounds like your voice.
Empty and ever flowing, draining faster than it fills.
The wallpaper peels and it looks like your fingers curling around mine.
Cracked and flaking, still easy on the eyes.
Books are falling off the shelves, thumping leather boots,
Scattered across the floor, what a beautiful catastrophe.
Half of me wants to scream and one eighth wants to cry,
But that doesn’t really make sense does it?
I’ll never be without you. I’ll never have to miss you.
You never really left.