can’t use my conditioner.
without thinking of you.
suppose it’s the right time of year.
the last place became unbearable.
you were everywhere.
here, it is more a flashback.
constant highlights of dawn.
moving on, the steps are heavy.
not too proud to beg, but it is futile.
memory shudders and stirs.
one barely sane day to the next.
this shelter is cold.
empty of your words.