Fiction

Minutes roll into hours roll into days
into months, it's been months--
I can hear you in my head.
“what's wrong with you lately?”
“why aren't you over this?”
that's a good question,
why aren't I over this?
even if it's not you, it's everything else
it's just been so lonely, lately
since I fell in love with my own character
that I created
in my head...
no.
it's not fair.
everyone gets a person,
but me.
where's my person?
I lost him in my dreams last night
and I am perishing
running through the forests of grief in my head
my throat itches.
I want to scream your name
but the truth is,
I don't know it yet.
Will I, ever?
“What are you thinking about lately?”
I have nothing.
I'm breathing in empty air
and for once in my entire existence
I want to share it with you.
[whoever you are.]