Heavy mornings

The missing does not come in tears.
it does not come like an ache between the chest.
it does not come as a sleepless
night or a desire to stay in bed.

but oh,
it surely comes..

when the boy passes in the bus
and his bag hits your hands,
throws your phone down,
yet he walks away like
nothing happened.
no apology inside his mouth-
it comes when you are
walking through the halls of
the school, but no one sees you.

but most of all,
it comes when you put the music
on, and its your little cousin's
favorite song
and she ain't here to sing it
for you