His sillage still lingers in the air-
like the love we had for around 36 months
so fragrant, sweet-scented and alive

As I continue to breath
knowing that if I cease to
he wouldn't even care

"He's not here"
"Stop it"
"He's never coming back"

I know,
but the last scene is replaying still

"You can always deny what you feel"

The third time I warned him
was the last time I could hear my name
escaping from his soft lips
like a massive torpedo
exploding in my head

"He's already dead"

I know,
it still hurts, it fucking hurts
for when I told him
I was broken
I never saw him again.