It’s been a month 

But it still feels odd speaking about you in the past tense 

Whenever I look at your clothes,

Your favourite couch

Your mug

I’m reminded that you’re gone

That I’ll never see you again

Never hear you laugh 

Never dance with you

I don’t cry in the shower anymore

But my chest still tightens when I talk about you

Your incessant worrying used to upset me

Yet now I’d give anything to have you here worrying about me

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Yoruba-Torontonian. Lover of music and most things tech. Avid reader, cook and writer

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