the space between
what was and what wasn't
grows larger in every hour that passes.
and i've just now realized
that those wasn't things
are becoming more prevalent
than the things that were.
(i just lost the hearing in my right ear)
it's obvious, then,
that the quiet nights we spent
not saying the things that should have been said
could have been better spent
alone.
and, yet, i wonder what we would have done
with all the blank pages
and empty stares
and shared glances.
all the words
between us
are now obsolete.
and the feelings
left unspoken are
rattling around in
the empty brokenness
you left behind.
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