Your Eyes Were My Favorite Color

Planners

I live by planners and countdowns, calendars and
timelines.
I let myself believe that in a week you'd reach out to me.
Like 7 is some sort of magic number.
I couldn't even withstand 24 hours without you,
I cannot fathom how you're still going.
I now pray every time I open my door you'll be
sitting on my front porch,
it only makes sense since I open my phone to no texts from you.
You have to come back.
I know it's passed:
the week mark I made.
So, I have to replan for you to come back in the month.
I need to believe that I can look forward to you returning to me.