Dead Wife Syndrome
I think about you, not thinking about me
an ode to something I never thought we'd be
a hymn for a shape
i never thought would learn my name
outside is bright
almost aggressively so
the sky keeps its promises
but the colors refuse to stay
as if the world misplaced
the filter you gave it
somewhere my light learned
how to dim without going out
your hours spend themselves freely
not even a coin set aside for me
or maybe there is one
tarnished
quiet
worth less than memory
they say loss teaches value
but i feel more like breath
after the lungs have forgotten
why they opened
The more you sit and ponder
Do your eyes start to wander?
He's looking back at you
The first bear between us
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