You're gone.
And for that reason, so am I.
You packed up your stuff and left,
taking most of me with you.
You've left me scrambling to put together what's left of my fragile frame.
I'm deteriorating
from the inside out.
You're flourishing,
as I expected.
I need to learn how to trust my intuition;
she whispers terrifying truths into my ear.
I refuse to believe them,
she laughs when they come true.