I miss you.
Here I am, awake again. Not by choice, but by consequence. I am flung from my dreams and I struggle to inhale. Not in a desperate attempt to escape from a nightmare, but to blurt out one more “I love you” even if you’re sleeping soundly somewhere far away, for fear I may never get to say it again. Now I reach for an imprint of where you used to lie, grasping for hope where your waist used to be. Still I turn to face your ghost. I see you in pixels. Small bits too illusory for the ordinary to divine. I’d memorized every detail of your face. Every speck of light making clear your visage at sunrise, and every shadow to ever lay across your silhouette. The night is so terribly silent when you have nothing but your loudest memory. Yet I live. Just as I gasp for air so too do I reach for your mind. Your warmth. To live as a whole perhaps made me too content with life. Feeling invincible tends to make people feel as though they could never become any less, yet here I am. Awake again, and oh so much less.

















