In the Funk

Breathing has become
such a heavy chore
the weight of working
is not justified anymore

light blue smell of you
now an allergic reaction to
the fighting
pains



I wish it could be the same
as that one day, last November
we were happy
and we held on
to the bedsheets
memories

Kiss me on the cheek
as you leave
while I'm sleeping dreaming
of fires and books
dreams of you
telling me
tomorrow will be
better

Silvye, please come home
I'm feeling especially alone
I need you
to remind me
of what we
can be
have been
and tell me
what we
have become