I still see you.
I can still hear your laugh.
I wake up and forget you're not here.
I think of things I want to tell you,
but instead of picking up the other end of the line I'm forced to bleed ink onto a page that gives me no response.
You left me with unanswered questions,
and the mind numbing monotony of re-remembering, every single day.
It hits so hard, so fast.
When the sun is shining,
while I'm laughing,
in the middle of the night,
it all comes back.
It's like a scream that won't come out.
Something is missing and nothing can fill the void.
I want to be angry.
I am angry.
You took years away from me and it hurts.