gone skiing

i don’t think you’re funny

anymore.

you can’t just tell me you’re moving to colorado

and expect me to ask if you’ll ski.

i don’t care about colorado.

i care that you’ll be in colorado

and i’ll be here.

first it was time.

six months.

every day together.

weeks.

months.

summer.

six months again.

now space.

a thousand miles.

soon there won’t be traces of you.

there will be bones.

god

i’m so tired of bones.