Writing

I rot in here now

Along with the old milk can

In the garbage bin.

Your love too

Has expired just like

The milk can.

Now I rot

With the milk can and

Your spoilt love.

My marionette,

Dancing to another's tune,

I thought it was mine?

It's 10:55

I'm losing my mind

I try to count sheep

But they just pass me by

I get up and sit

At my desk, bite my lip

What to write, how to feel

Maybe my humor conceals

Who I am truly

I love buttondowns

White buttondowns

Crisp white collars

Buttoned up

I feel real now

Fluting is great

You know I love it

But

I miss the whole band

The community

I miss the company in the music

Now

I am alone for two months

Just a lonely flute and her melody

Next to you

Not a big deal

Natural

Normal

Eyes

Joking

Teasing

I could touch you

The bracelet on your wrist

Our bracelet

I could talk to you about it

I'd lose my train of thought