Also Old

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Something about how I still look for your face in everyone else’s, or
Something about how I still shout “I miss you” into the void.
“Write something,”
Everyone says,
“Write something,”
But all I can think about is the way you said my name.
So I’ll write something about how I am more banned book than girl,
Something about how miles away feels too close now,
Something about never wanting to hold a hand again.
(But I am not, and it is not, and I do.)

This is the best I can do.
Something about how my love crossed an ocean,
And something about how you never wanted it to travel there in the first place.

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