how I eat, how I move through the day even the silence before sleep feels heavier now. You were a part of everything. And I don't know how to get used to that kind of missing-don't know how to fill this space you left behind.
I don't even know how to explain the kind of empty you left behind. It's not loud. It's not dramatic. It's quiet and it lingers go through the motions like I'm okay-smile at the right times,say I'm fine. But the truth is,I notice your absence in everything In how I wake up,
I still turn over,
expecting your weight beside me.
I still catch myself
saving your side of the bed.
I still remember
how your skin felt
after a long day,