It seems like I’ve forgotten how to address letter to you.
You are no longer the ink that bleeds out of my fingers.
You are no longer the first person I think of when something good happens to me.
It’s no longer your name I scribble down the back of my notebook.
I am no longer looking for you in the people I meet, in the places I go.
Half of my ribs are no longer missing.
You are no longer the sea
The sky, the moon, the sun
The air I breathe, everything.