Ten days, Two hundred and forty hours. I allow myself to drink delusions, under the covers, aching, thinking about how everything is changing, except my helpless, hapless hoping. I have slept a little, wept a lot, your name lives in my dreams, a curse that calls to me, and I sleep, to forget. I thought…

Last time, you took a souvenir, as you left. I was asleep, eyes closed, not seeing you steal, segments of my soul, sweet and serene, wrapped in the brightest days. You walked into the night, no goodbyes, no route back, you go back, to being alone, barely alive, staring at the small part of my…