11–16–2023
I find walking up in the morning is becoming one of the harder things to do.
I open my eyes to a new day, a bright morning sun, but recently everything just looks gray to me.
No matter how warm the day is or how high the sun rises, I feel cold.
It’s moments like this that I used to crave the most.
The dead quiet would be a comforting place for me to clear my head and just be a cog in the system.
I find myself trying to scour for traces of you, anything that was left behind.
My best quality becoming one that I dispise the most as I wipe what was left of your smell and your touch.
You are still here but why do I feel so empty?
Having been teased by happiness, I have been spoiled by the feeling.
By the warm mornings.
By the colour you have brought into my life.
