It’s like someone cut off my pinky toe,
Ambiguously ruining my balance,
The way that I take on the world.
It’s like my ear has become curved
In a slightly different manner,
Sounds reaching my ears distorted.
It’s as if my tongue has been covered
With sour taste buds,
Destroying the allure of food.
But all it really is… well,
You’re not here.
And I miss you.
And without you, I’m not me.