My handwriting
used to be
neat,
and bubbly,
and the letters
were looped together,
kind of like
how we used to
hold hands.
Now,
my hands are empty
and trembling,
and my handwriting
is messy,
small,
and carelessly scrawled
onto paper.
I used to wake up
in the morning,
with my legs
entangled
with yours.
Recently,
i have been waking up
with my legs
entangled
in plain white sheets
along with
my tangled
thoughts.
It seems like
only a week ago,
you were sitting
on my couch,
smiling,
laughing,
and talking.
I still expect
you to be there,
waiting,
everyday
when i come home.
But all that is there
is the horribly hand-stitched
pillow
you made for me
last christmas,
and the image
of your face
with
your bottom lip
sticking out
as you complain
about sewing
and how
it is much harder
and painful
then you
imagined.
My walls
were once covered
in every picture of us
I ever owned.
Now,
they are bare.
Holding only one
picture of you,
but it is
ripped,
and burnt at the edges,
because
i burned them all
and changed my mind
when there was only
half a picture
left.
There was a time
when my ears
heard the words
“i love you”
come out
of your mouth
every day.
The only thing they hear
anymore
is muffled sobs
and whispered
“i miss you”s.
So excuse my messy handwriting,
and lonely legs,
and empty couch,
and burnt photo,
and lost words,
but life has changed
since you were
here.
