She's not coming home in three days, turns out she's home on Sunday. So it's 6 days all over again. I feel shit and alone.
I didn't fight, the first blow.
Hearing that you had to go,
i'm out of tabs that I could smoke,
As night falls I start to choke.
The terror that comes with missing you,
Nightmares I can't determine aren't true.
I'm sick of the sitting, sick of the wait,
only so much I can procrastinate.
I'll sleep away the hours of days,
It passes some time but, I hate these delays
I lie with my cat, curled up on the floor
hoping it's not long till you're back at my door.
I miss you my dear, it's just hard to hear,
you'll be gone extra days, and that was my fear.
- Sony DSLR-A330