he was, he was, but now he's not.

These walls scream his name,

Grabbing my attention like a bright flashing neon sign.

"I was here. I was here. And now I'm not."

These books, these sheets, these doors.

"I was here. I was here. And now I'm not."

Every corner of every room.

"I was here. I was here. And now I'm not."

It's enough to drive me insane.

The emptiness of his presence intensifies my imagination,

every car sounds like his.

Every footstep sounds like his.

Every jingle of keys.

Every car alarm.

Every closed car door.

Every knock.

Every doorbell.

Every voice.

Every laugh.

My ears strain to hear the sounds of his arrival,

heightened by my hopes and imagination.

"I was here. I was here. And now I'm not."

It's enough to drive me insane.

I imagine the warmth of his body on his side of my bed,

the steady pace of his heartbeat,

the soft sounds of his breathing...

I imagine the tickle of his hair,

but that's just what it is.

Imagination.

He was here. He was here. And now he's not.

It's enough to drive me insane.