I loved him for five years or so,
and he left a few months ago.
I've been trying to keep it together,
but he's all I've been thinking about.I miss his jaw,
all the curves and dips.
I miss his smile,
and the way his eyes crinkled up.I miss his laugh,
though I don't remember how it sounded.
I miss his morning voice,
even though I never heard it.I never got to see him,
see if he was real.
What if he wasn't there all along,
and he never existed?I never got to see him,
and I remember thinking he was just "gonna take a break"
but I had a feeling,
and I hated that I knew.He still makes my chest hurt,
even though it's been a hundred and five days.
He's happy, I hope.
And I'll be hollow.
YOU ARE READING
the city
Poetryand no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016