You And Your Messy Hair

Usually when you wake up and someone's gone, it's the person that was next to you.

But today I woke up to find only you and your messy hair. I was gone in the midsts of something called happiness, and I'm still trying to figure out what it is. I watched you skip breakfast. I watched you starve. I followed you to work, and I'm surprised everybody buys your fake smiles like they're gum balls in a machine. You didn't eat very much lunch and you keep staring at yourself in the mirror.

What are you trying to find? Because I can see your eyes and feel your spirt. And I promise, 

They're in the right places.

To me, the rest doesn't matter. I know who you are. And I get it– being buried under those shoulders must hurt like hell. Your soul aches under the weight. You keep repeating each day like it's the pervious. You close your eyes just to look at something else. But I want to remind you,

You're alive.

And I'm watching.