Author's Note: I've finally figured out how to make these documents single spaced and make the stanzas correct, but for this poem, I found the bold and italics fitting. Maybe next time you'll get a proper poem with no extra formatting.

His and Hers

Her eyes finding mine,

Her voice still singing me to sleep.

The aura around her as she smiles,

it all haunts me now.

His silent presence,

His smiling eyes as his mouth–serious.

The warmth of his hand in mine,

I still feel him as if he's here.

Her hair in my hands,

Her head on my shoulder.

The tears she shed last we met;

I'm still comforting now.

His skin soft and smooth to touch,

His scent on my clothes.

The strength of his embrace,

still, I'm trapped in his arms.

Her fingers tapping on the computer,

Her constant correction of my mistakes.

The music she listened to

is on repeat in my mind.

His reading over my shoulder,

His arms around my waist.

The hypnotic voice in my ear

is speaking to me now.

Her notes in my binder,

Her book in my room.

The place she sat on the couch

is where she's sitting now.

His company between classes,

His hand taking my bag from me.

The numbness in my arm on his shoulder,

I feel it now, as my hand is asleep.

Her thievery at lunch,

Her shoes getting in the way.

The stubborn attitude she has

is still scolding me for buying her present.

His watch on my wrist,

His shell casings hung from my neck.

The persistence he has for buying me the world

is an obstacle I've managed to sneak past.

Her intelligence,

His sense.

Her perfection,

His sainthood.

Even apart,

and we're together.

Still close as ever,

though physically gone.

Agreeing to disagree

just about all the time.

We're best friends;

we're mortal enemies.

She's gone...

Where is he?

'Til I see her again...

He's always on my mind.