The empty stare.
World unseen.
Only the constant hum and weight of absence. Regret.
A thought of autumn and then autumn.
More days.
Hours. All the same.
Winter.
Spring.
Creeping and hollow summer and the empty stare.
Waiting out the clock.
Cut off the frostbitten fingers and hope the hand can be saved.
Hope the hand can be saved.
The empty stare and the weight of absence.
The mirror and hide my face in the beard. Under the sunglasses.
Every love on the television.
Every loss.
They all belong to me.
They all wear your face.
Cut off the frostbitten hand and hope the arm can be saved.
More days.
More hours.
Each grinding minute at the base of my skull.
Keeps me awake and my eyes hurt.
Lay in the dark.
My skin sweats and itches against the sheet and I shift in the bed and my brain is on fire.
Spinning. Tumbling off in the night.
My throat is tight and my eyes burn and the constant hum and weight of absence. Regret.
The morning light and get out of bed.
My eyes burn.
The mirror.
The empty stare.
More days.
More hours.
They all wear your face.
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