I still wear your hoodie.

The seams on the sleeves are unraveling, the way the bandages holding my cloven heart slipped from this diseased organ still pumping in my chest.

It doesn’t smell like you any longer.

In losing you, I have gained myself.

Everything is so overwhelmingly me.

The solitude of sleep

The stillness of eating alone

The scalding showers severing my already scarred skin.

Silence

Severity

Sentience

Wrap around my throat and squeeze like a snake.

In my last breaths, I think of you. And I realize how much of me I have.