…to the stars I don’t get to see at night.
To the comfort of knowing they’ll always be there waiting for me to greet.
To the sounds of laughter and connection I’ll never get to experience.
To all the items I use to fill the space left behind by…people? Tattered, frayed, and burnt connections
To all the fantasies I’ve suppressed and buried so far down that I’ve forgotten what it means to feel pleasure.
To the sound of your broken voice this morning.
To the sound of my dragging feet.
To all of it.