Second Time Around

I step inside my dark apartment,
make sure to lock the door behind me.
The streetlamp outside casts my shadow on the wall,
green light from the microwave tells me the time.
My boots echo on the fake hardwood floor,
feet still freezing through two layers of socks.

I hear the heat running but I don't feel it,
instead notice how cold it is now I'm home alone.
Look out through two layers of glass,
see nothing beyond the streetlamp past the parking lot.
Alone here where it's empty,
where there are no fairy lights or Christmas trees
to make my life feel magical,
lock the bedroom door even though I'm here alone,
or maybe because I am. 
Might just sleep with the lamp on tonight.

I can feel the redness in my eyes,
the burn of wanting to close them
but it hurts too much to do so.
The dried tears on my face
are not the product of today's grief,
but a reminder of what it was like
to feel infinite.

I remember minutes ago,
when I didn't want to let go of that feeling
We held on to each other in a dark truck.
and I could hear his heartbeat
even through two layers of clothing.
And then the moment passed
and I came inside and
maybe someday I won't be scared. 

I sit on the floor of my bedroom,
boots still on my feet,
and everything is so, so cold.
Maybe someday things will be different.