The Days After

The Days After

The mornings after

are always the hardest.

When I’m submerged in Morpheus,

there’s peace in his arms.

You fade a little from my mind

and turn into

passing images.

But when I wake up,

everything comes back.

I have to face that moment

where every day

I have to convince myself

that you’re gone.

My system still doesn’t process it.

One of those times

when not even a cup of tea

can ease the pain.

I wonder if you think of me.

I wonder if you feel me.

But… what’s the point?

With my mind in chaos,

my heart in my hands,

wondering how someone can be

so selfish

as to leave a heart this broken.

Every night in sorrow.

Every morning awake.

⸻

I breathe.

1, 2, 3, 4…

Why does the car

have that way

of comforting me

while I cry?

I’m driving

and everything seems perfect.

The road holds me.

The wind runs through my hair

and the day

feels different.

But it isn’t.

A tear falls

without warning.

Suddenly.

I keep going.

As if nothing happened.

“Part of the job,” I tell myself.

What are a few tears

spilled

compared to so much love

overflowing…

or wasted?

Did it deserve it?

Maybe not.

⸻

My body

is releasing its last emotions.

Where there could have been

some kind of empathy,

there’s no space left.

I can’t keep feeling.

Who am I fooling?

I keep driving.

Maybe this is my therapy.

Tears running,

thoughts fading,

miles passing by.

Self-deception…

that keeps me going.