People sometimes ask me what it’s like
They want to know where all my love goes when you’re not there anymore
and it’s hard for me to find a way to explain
how it’s in the empty coffee cup that I hold onto after dropping you off at the airport
It’s in the bathroom, when I get home to find the toilet seat is still up
and I just leave it there
It’s in the half drunk bottle of Diet Coke that I keep on my dresser for weeks
just because you carried it
on our walk through Central Park
It’s everywhere
It’s me almost missing my subway stop because I’m writing all of this down
If you liked this poem, please be sure to check out, “Dear Depression“
