This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of what was.

Depression is like waking up and opening the blinds because your plants need sunlight, but it's 8p.m. It's always 8p.m and you keep apologizing for it.

You ask me to write you a poem,
I pen you an empty ocean,
You run away.
You ask me who I am,
I paint you a breaking sky,
You weep in the rain.

Nostalgia can be more painful than a surgeon's knife.

we always knew
that good times came
with termination contracts
even if we weren't quite ready
to sign it.

What was our life like? I almost don't remember now. Though I remember it, the space of time it occupied. And I remember it fondly.