Losing

I am writing for days when I stop waking up to your voice (or your twelve missed calls), when my words become language you can't understand. I am writing for forgotten birthdays and hazy letters and all that is inbetween.

I am writing for the day when you are ripped from me by medical fluids and sirens, white lights and forces bigger than both of us. I am writing for when you are taken from me by hands and teeth and prettier eyes. I am writing for when our song runs out of minutes and seconds and all that's left is silence.