I like to sit back and think about the times we sat in your kitchen and drank tea.
You’d heat up a hot pocket or something ridiculously unhealthy.
I miss the way you’d put your hand on my knee.
Or the way you’d kiss me between sips of tea.
I can still feel the warm, filling tea slide into my cold insides.
I’m slowly forgetting the way your voice sounds.
I refuse to listen to my iTunes because you’re my most played song.
I cried tonight.
I was talking to myself about you.
I was in an altered state of mind but you’re the first thing I thought about.
I realize I said I was talking to myself about you.
I was talking with my sister.
Although I guess you could say I talk to myself about you..
In my head I think about the different ways I could have handled things.
But I guess I think out loud too.