when you’re gone. still.

thinking of you
I fall back to 18 years old.
naive.
scared.
reckless.
lost.
it’s like adolescence is not a phase for me.
it’s my personality.
I’m tired.

15 houses. 9 years.
Since you.
each time the boxes come out.
each time I sort through
my life.
and I find the photos.
your letters.
our presents.
your words.
your smile.
your dancing.
your love.
your eulogy.

you break my heart
again.
and
I’d take myself
for you to be back.

remember when you sang to me?

remember that kiss?

you would hate him.
you wouldn’t let me make these mistakes.
I am a fool.
and I don’t suffer fools.

15 houses. 9 years.
can I bear the 10th?

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