The Past Month
I’ve spent the last month
Wondering whether I miss you
Or if it is even possible to miss you
As it seems impossible you’re gone.
I’ve gone through boxes of your stuff
Boxes, upon boxes, upon boxes
Of memories, jammed into duffel bags,
and tucked away in ziplocks
I’ve driven past your room daily
Checking the lot to catch a glimpse
Of you smoking on the curb, or
Feeling your way back to your bed.
Bumped into your friends who
Hadn’t heard of your departure,
And did my best to explain to them
Something that makes no sense to me.
I keep replaying situations over and over
In my cluttered, overwhelmed mind.
Sure that there was something I could have changed
Sure that this is something I’ll wake up from.
All you have now are fond memories,
I’ve been told by a few,
But I’ve held on to everything
Fond or not, I miss it all.
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