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You are gone and I use your side of the bed to sleep on the side under which you have those small stones you brought from different rivers from different locations I've always been irritated by those stones by my not fully understanding their true meaning their esotericism you're gone and left your underwear to dry on the balcony I finally take it inside after leaving it there for days I fear the sun will take away its color I water your flowers after letting them die for 2-3 consecutive years you're with your tribe your community nurturing those human connections I'm here running away from masses groups, teams and organizations you're with your childhood memories, people and deceased I'm here having all of it under a hard lock you're with your trauma of having to see your grandpa shot and killed by enemies and dying in your family car I wrap my hands around the little you I'm with you