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