Healing isn’t linear,
but I really wish it was.
Some days I’m just fine and don’t even look, and others, I check up on you a million times just because.

I hate when I feel the shift,
like dropping my phone in the ocean.
My heart races and can barely defend
against all the high-adrenaline mental commotion.

I handled the quiet so well yesterday;
you never even crossed my mind.
But here I am, mid-afternoon- turning my head,
no longer running, but you’re not behind.

Like a midnight hike gone horribly wrong-
it started to rain, we got lost in the fog,
and wound up on different trails.

And I'm cold in my bed
Tired
Pillow covered in tears because that's where they're used to falling
And I just want to be loved

And I know I am by my friends
And my family
But I want to be stuck in someone's head
And I want them to rub my arm and make me a little bit less cold
And maybe have my tears land on their shoulder instead

I want to be the poem and not the poet for once