You left

You left me. Lonely. Scared. A child who is only safe holding your hand and you let her go in the deep night, get lost in fear. I see our memories every time I close my eyes as if I’m walking bare feet on sharp glass. I still see your face in my selfies, holding my shoulders, your smile lightening the picture. The night that I now am forced to endure alone is sad, scary, foreign to me, different from the night I am used to. The night we walked hand in hand. The night we shared ice cream cones. The night filled with laughter echoing through the heavy trees. Now the trees are bare and the stars don’t shine. The moon is naked, unable to keep me safe. The person who was used to cry in your arms about the harsh nights is now crying in the arms of the moon about your absence.

I still close my eyes in bed and imagine your body lying next to mine. Hearing your breath in my ears and feeling your soft touch. But the covers and sheet are cold now. The walls are screaming at me, shrinking on me. I see you walk in the room, smile at me and tell me you still love me but I am only faced with a shut door that never opens. The night is longer, endless, missing your embrace.

I still go to the same place. I still order two coffees. By accident yes. It became a reflection I am unable to overcome. Or maybe I don’t want to. I sit on our table and smile, seeing you sipping on your coffee in front of me. How am I supposed to live with your ghost always lingering around me?