Trying to Move Past You

It comes in a crashing landslide now,

knocking around all my thoughts,

leaving fractured pieces of us.

The best parts of us.

Usually when I am out alone

and see a face I once longed to see,

moving on right in front of me.

It comes in a rolling ache now,

just as I begin to believe

that I am fine without you.

Better even.

Usually when I am in room full of people

without the sound of your voice,

bringing a smile to my face as you whisper in my ear.

It comes in a quick flicker now,

burning my fingertips

even when I’ve already learned my lesson.

Too many times.

Usually when I am awake before sunrise

watching snow brush the earth

the same way it would brush across your hair.