Does it not hurt

To wake to the empty space

Where your smile used to be

Lazy eyes sliding shut


Waiting tables

Do you not wish

To rush in late again

And claim your own?


Not that I will be waiting

Nor have anything to say

For done is done

And a lady does not turn


Yet I know every word and tone

Of all the things I will not say

Words bottled in rust

Corroding the everyday


Wrapping the hole in papered skin

Slipping fingers knotting string

The knock that I know will come

May not find the known someone




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