withdrawal

missing you

is like withdrawal

laying on a bed

that no longer

smells like you

staring at the ceiling

with a hole

where my heart

used to be.

the bruises you

left on my body

are barely there

and i can pretend

you did not happen

but my dull eyes

and hollow laugh

know otherwise

and so does everyone else

because i am always tired.

i wish i overdosed

and died

in your arms.

it will get easier.

i know.

my veins will no longer

thirst

for the rush

of oxytocin

and maybe i will smile

for real

when i drink coffee.

and then you will

come around again.