Nothing felt right when she left.

It felt strange to put one foot

in front of the other.

Strange, to feel my lungs,

expanding with air

filled with the smell of so many places.

Strange, to speak normally,

ask how long I needed to stay,

to loiter at this impassé

Strange, to not feel her presence,

her calm, her spirit.

I tried to put on a brave face,

to smile, and wave, and say “text me!”

She didn’t wave back

She didn’t even turn around.

The phone rang

and I didn’t have a chance

to let her know how much I love her

before she flew away

into hours of silence and sadness.

.

.

.

Time, how cruel and relative you are.

.

.

.

I miss her.