I FEEL IT, ALWAYS

I feel it, I always do the silence before you hang up the last day before I see you again the emptiness of the word night after you wish me goodnight. I feel it, I always do the warmth that stays after your hug your heartbeat when we hold hands the ache of missing you before you're even gone. I feel it in the little things the empty bed, the untouched laundry the way my fingers curl around nothing searching for the shape of you. I feel it in the space beside me where your laughter should have been in gossips that used to be ours now just stories I giggle to alone. I feel it in my late night chats too quiet without your messages in the messages I start to type then delete, because what’s the point? I feel it, even when I shouldn’t even when I tell myself not to even when the world keeps moving but I am stuck in the space you leave behind.