flurry

I look at the empty space you left behind in such a hurry, rushing home to appease a mother who doesn't know I exist and who may never acknowledge that I do. I breathed in the last of your presence, stroke the last imprint of your body on my sheets before it is replaced with my own.

My body still isn't fully aware of the fact that you're not in close proximity. Imagine the time it will take to comprehend that you're leaving in two days.