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What are you waiting for?
Why did I feel like that was the last time I'd ever see that haughty stomp?
Those moderately priced pumps and frilly earth tones.
Contemporary bob.
That one day she wore her glasses.
That one day...
Why does it become more vague with each step?
Why are the words fading and the colors slipping?
Why do the tips of my fingers ache at the slight
delicate
pull
I know this feeling.
I know this dense emptiness in my chest.
Knowing
No more small talk
no more blather and advice
no glance
no tension
no gentle pitterpat echoing in my body.
No greater responsibility.
No greater good.
No more suave smile on a crutch.
No duct tape anectdotes.
She's gone.
They didn't even consult me.
Didn't even ask if I'd like to hold up the walls as the world caved in.
She didn't say goodbye.
