Sometimes saying goodbye to someone
doesn't nearly hurt as much
as saying goodbye to the version of you
that existed alongside them.

Wrote your name on another bridge today,
the second one since I left a month ago.
In another world, maybe,
I keep doing this until I die.
In another world, perhaps,
you do the same with mine.

I cried today,
at work,
in the bathroom,
alone.

I left early.
The thoughts,
the sorrow,
the pain.

I bawled in my car
silently,
as soon as I shut
the door.

The engine kicks,
and you
move
on.

Loving you
Is like drowning
Reaching for the brim
Waiting for you to help me
Instead of learning how to swim

We used to climb
Stairs of light together
I've done a lot of dying
Since you left
A lot of living too