On the first day, I don't bleed, I ache.

I throb like a baby's heart in mother's womb. So young, unaware of heartbreak, or pain .

Unlike me.

On the second day, i bleed.

I bleed on the lush ivory carpet where we once laid, where we once loved.

I bleed out all the memories .

On the third day, i lay exhausted, after bleeding you out of my system.

But even in my weak inhale, even in my shaking hands, even in my chapped lips, you exist.

On the fourth week, I put on my coat and go out.

I smile and nod. But when I lay alone at night.

My bed half warm, other half cold, I ache for you.

On the fifth month, I laugh and dance after finishing my glass of wine.

Just when i feel healed I feel you on the tip of my fingers, on my lips, on my tongue.

As you roll down my cheek as a bittersweet memory, still cherished, caressing the edge of my smile.