In case you wanted to know
(I hate to speak it out loud)
with you gone, I am languishing here.

Some mornings I get up too early and
some mornings I get up too late but either way
I’m still getting up without you.

And I still make enough coffee for two,
I guess my hands haven’t heard that
only one person will be drinking it.

Over the newspaper I’ll say out loud,
“make sure you read this article about Bosnia”
and when the only answer is silence- I remember.

I can’t take a breath without feeling you,
and I can’t open my eyes without looking for you,
because you are solidly a part of everything I do.

Now I’m locked in myself with all these memories,
like the time you kissed me in that doorway.
This isn’t freedom, this is hell.