There's a sharp pain in my chest, staring at constellations.
An urge for more, that I know can't be fulfilled just yet.
And I can paint the walls, change the sheets, rearrange till my body drops from exhaustion but it doesn't erase everything that's happened in here.
Doesn't change the echoes of laughter crackling over record player speakers.
Doesn't erase the soft slow embrace and lazy kisses on this mattress, how I'll feel the ghost of them long after I forget your name.
I can pin lace to the walls and hang flowers from the ceiling with fishing line but it doesn't change the confrontations and tears hollowing out the walls as deep as the Grand Canyon.
I can hang photos but that doesn't wipe away the ones that used to sit in their place.
It doesn't matter how many songs I write, how many hits of yoga and breathing exercises I do, it can't get rid of the thoughts and fears chasing me till the sun rises.
I can burn sage but I'll never cleanse my ghosts from this place entirely.
I'll still hear your name and hurt.
I'll still see you driving ahead of me and remember our hands fitting together.
I'll still look around apartments and wonder if you'd ever want me like I want the idea of you.
I'll still just ache for something I won't let myself have.
And I can buy all the organic food, cook my meals, and go to sleep and wake up like a normal human being but it won't distract me from the fact that I'm waiting.
I'm waiting for lace and smiles and memories I'm too scared to make.
There's an ache in my chest,
And no matter what I do,
It only gets worse.
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