A Book I'm Going to Write

What's a Building Without a Builder

It's 3:00am and I miss you.
And this is not the first time these words have been spoken and it probably won't be the last.
And it's not even one specific thing that I miss but the whole collective thing: you.
And lately I've been working to patch up the gaping hole that you left.
And this time instead of covering it with a sheet, or hiding it behind a curtain, I've decided to use bricks and cement.
And maybe this will let me finally close off the gap that separates me now from who I was then, before all this, before you took a part of me and ran with it, before I had to file a missing persons report for the girl who wasn't broken, the girl that didn't miss anyone- not at 3:00am.
And it's been going really well, no really, it has.
It's about a brick a day- well, maybe half a brick.
But you know, sometimes it rains and sometimes it pours.
And I can't help it but you slowly seep through the cracks.
And it's no longer memories or replaying old scenes in my head, it's just you.
And I'm trying, I'm trying really fucking hard to close you off.
But when the storms pass through all I want to do is lay it all down, let it pour through the openings, I want to drown in it.
And it's 3:00am and I miss you and I'm afraid of drowning.
And I wonder if I'll ever fix what you so skillfully tore apart.
And I wonder how long and I wonder how fast and I wonder if I should learn how to swim.