It's not enough, though it's too much. Why must it always feel like this?

I'm not okay today.

I miss you and oh, those words I've read a million times now-
They still make me cry.
Every single time.

It's one of those days where I feel like I'm ripping my insides out in what is supposed to be a way of therapy.
Except it isn't.

This is for you.
It's supposed to be for you.
It should've been for you.

I wish I wasn't so teary eyed.
It's not very good you know? Turning up for work ten minutes late and then being all teary. Hiding in the loo to feel sad.

But I've put myself in the middle of our empty studio.
Black carpets, high ceilings with red brick walls.
Feeling the ache that's come with the absence of you.

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