sad like a sickle left to rust in the dusty barn with a view of fields of waving wheat

sad like finishing a wonderful book that went to all the places a tale travels to

sad like the lonely that only comes when you realize there is something missing

a blue crayon rolled under the couch forgotten in a fields of pinks and soft purple

just
sad

like me wanting to whisper i love you into your ear my breath tickling your neck

staring into space and only space staring back

my head hurts
but only
when i move
so you’re going
to have to
come kiss me