the air has a weight
a grit,
that chafes my skin
and I can't remember
the last time
I was touched
with intent.

the days dawn hard
like fighting a hangover
and everything is moving
out of my control

each moment
is new,
but it's lacking
bright and shiny.

I just want to hear
your voice
even when there is nothing
to say

I press that phone in tight
clench my eyes
and use the sound of your breath
to convince myself
there is something more.

I have more questions
than answers stored up
and not a clue
where to go from here

I can list the things
I know are facts
but all that matters
is the crux of the issue

now that you don't want me
all I do is want you.