Danya Ewing

Six Years

It’s been six years. Six years since I heard your voice echoing through these halls. I wake up alone, always alone. Eyes still closed, I slide my foot to your side of the bed; It is cold. And yet, it shocks me. Almost as if you snuck away in the night while I slept and the absence of you hasn’t been hanging in the air like a thick mist for over half a decade.