On Learning How To Wake Up Without You


I’m never not waiting for you.
Even when I’m not,

I’m not not.
They tell me double negatives aren’t grammatically correct,
but neither is this splinter stuck in my middle,

how I can’t seem to pull it out

even when someone hands me tweezers.

I pick at loose skin and don’t even mind the blood.

this game of

“is it okay to not be okay?”

when I was stripped of all remaining dignity,
I think I died a little when you finally left.

when I finally let you

when I finally decided to find myself.