You were my best friend, and there’s someone missing now.
But I can’t recall who.
I feel your fingers interlaced in mine. This must be how we held hands.
I sleep with a body pillow on my right side. This must be where you laid.
I pull this pillow on top of my chest and briefly feel your goatee irritate my best. This must be how I held you in my arms.
I still see 6:13 on the clock all the time, but can’t recall why this was your lucky number.
You still speak to me through music, as you always have. But the songs are no longer in your voice.