On the tip of my tongue
In between the spaces of each breathe I take
You infest each word that I think of
That's how deep you are
In the depths of my voice box
Aligned in the chords of each song I sing
Twisted in the curves of each letter I write
It's you that makes all this possible
These series of poems, letters
I put a piece of you in all of them
And still haven't run out of ideas to conjunct around you
I'm on a streak, but not any winning streak
More like a pattern of withdrawals
These remembrances of you are my morphine
Pen to pad or Notepad on IPad
To scratch the itch of how you make me feel
I can't stop and won't stop remembering you