Scribe xpressions

I miss Zoey today.

I wake up with my chest tight and see the sky is dampy gray.

My face sits on foundation but the pensiveness of a song brings an overflow of tears that washes it into clumps of debris, a reflectional train wreck, and I just can’t breathe right.

I know I am pale and conversation has stalled in me; but all the breaths in my lungs keep waiting for you like ghosts in purgatory.

I just miss you, especially on days like today.

I’m still coming to terms with the fact that today is every day.