I push away the ending of the day

 

when I gaze in the mirror

cleaning my teeth

back and forth  

back and forth

repetitive motion, much like the day’s comings

and goings, 

a reflection of the darker side of boredom 

 

when the house feels not like a home,

so very still and empty of life,

I hear the cars passing on the freeway,

miles away,

while all is quiet here,

a still life contained within four walls

 

when I feel the depth of longing,

pure and bitter,

like an ice shard in my heart,

working its way deep into my core

 

when I think most clearly of you

and all you seemed to be,

proof that I did love,

and was loved

 

and yet the night does come,

with the numbing comfort of ritual

and the bleak certainty that I will

continue searching for you

even into my dreams