I haven’t drunk coffee
since you left
or slept with a crooked pillow.
I haven’t been to IHOP at three in the morning
or counted all the Iron Man comics at an antique store.
I no longer spend any time
contemplating this shade of black
over that one
and I’ve stopped believing anyone’s hair
could be spun from gold.
I can’t look at the number 7
without seeing the other three digits
of your old apartment
and I don’t care to tread softly through the snow.
I’ve figured out that the only thing
that separates one moment from another
is whatever division we make inside our heads
and that, now,
the only thing that separates you from me
is that I don’t want you,
I don’t want any of this
and I haven’t
since I stopped doing it.
This poem earned an honorable mention in Delta’s local competition for the Liberal Arts Network for Development (LAND). LAND provides a network for the development of the liberal arts in Michigan’s community colleges.