I feel. . .

Empty.

No. I feel hollow.

Yeah, hollow.

I laid down on top of my bed with my clothes on.

I stared at the ceiling until my eyes throbbed and sank back into my head.

I closed them, waiting for the grief to overtake me.

It didn't.

I laid there as long as I could.

I tried to let go of every emotion.

I wanted to drift.

Just drift.

I wanted to turn into wisps of smoke.

I wanted to be a slave to wind.

I wanted to drift.

Just drift.

It wasn't that I wanted to die.

I just didn't want to live.

Existing without you became too much.

If only we could be dust together.

If only I, too, could have been ashes.

Then we could drift.

Just drift.