It hurts to think of you.
It hurts to see photos, instead of your face, that was so like my own…
It hurts to know that your world is rotting away in cardboard boxes.
I kept the pencil sharpenings I found in your pocket.
It hurts to keep them.
It hurts to even think of not keeping them.
I can still smell the shampoo in your lock of hair.
It hurts to smell it.
I miss you every minute,
and it hurts.