i miss the sweet smell of autumn decay.

so scared of the small representations of you, of them, of feelings that pile up inside the closed drawer, the out of sight shelf, the dark corners of my room. their love haunts me, it's a plague, but it's not, if it's a plague it's one I want to embrace. close my eyes and hold you tight, that letter tickles at my fingertips. read me, remember, regret, reminisce, rejoice, relinquish. the paper may stay tucked away somewhere safe, but the ink remains embedded beneath my skin.

i cannot breathe. i miss you. i can't comprehend that i'm not with you.