driven

now that you're gone I dream about you. I can think about the stolen minutes.
when I'd drive you home and then how the hours would go by. We never
lied to ourselves, never called it anything that it wasn't. And there
were encores. I never let myself think about you till now. It just
happened. You didn't know anything about me outside what you saw from
9 to 5. And it was the way we wanted it.

Now, since you've been gone, I have this acidic feeling to my stomach,
like when you drink too much coffee and it fucks with your system. The
mornings don't feel like mornings- just a continuous part of the
previous day. And I'm tired of the routine of the days now that you're
gone. Like a part of me wants to scream as the day runs in patterns,
the next 100 will be like the previous 100, before you came. There is
a difference between the now of here without you. We reached the end,
you bit my lip y asi fue.

*legalese: this piece is a work of fiction.

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