"Seven hours and
That I put my shirt on b a c k w a r d s,
My shoes on the wrong feet
Through the hallway, can't find my cigarettes
Your face floating behind my eyes
Only three minutes have passed since
Checked my watch last.
'Could it be that I'm dreaming?'"
Note: He comes home tonight at 7:30. . .it's only twelve and I'm already a jumbled mess. Funny how that still happens after six months of him being gone. . . Thanks for reading!