Falling Asleep as a Defense Mechanism

I still see the same faces everyday, but something has changed in yours.

 

 

Maybe I'm watching too closely for some sign of you missing me.

 

 

I don't want to give off the wrong impression so don't mind me if I fall asleep to forget that you're not here. 

 

 

I'm painting my nailes your favorite color in the hopes that you'll see them and remember the feeling of your hand in mine. 

 

 

Can I change my nameto something you'd like better?

 

 

I know it's not love (anymore).

 

 

But darling, it used to be.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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