you asked me if I get lonely,
sleeping next to your ghost
next to the gifts you gave me once,
during the freezing rain
and the snow

you asked me if I get lonely,
underneath my covers
spending Christmas beside a lit tree
with my legs dangling 
off my queen bed

you asked me if I get lonely,
sleeping next to your ghost
and I lied to you,
and told you that I do.

but the truth 
is that I'm lonelier when you're around

Some days, to the world,

I feel like the fake drawers on bathroom cabinets
or the false pockets
on a suit's vest;a reasonable addition
that looks like it belongs,
but what possible purpose
will I ever serve?

Some days, to the world,
I feel like
a thunderstorm with too little thunder
and too much rain
and no fathomable idea
what to do with all the lightning
growing inside me.

Some days, to the world,
I feel like
a book with no cover and a title page
that is torn;
I am filled with words
but only those that care to read
will ever understand
what I am about.

-Tyler Knott Gregson