Waking up without you next to me is dim, like the muffled sunlight that is trying to sing it’s good mornings beyond your opaque curtains. There is no skirting around the fact that we are pathetic with our love. You left me alone at an Andrea Gibson show for 15 min to get some food, and still had to text that you missed me. To fill the void, I had no choice but to write a poem about being alone.