Inappropriate Laughter.

I scrub my tattoo because it's all that's left of you.

I listen to the music we made because it's all that's left of you.

I search through photos hoping to catch a glimpse because it's all that's left of you.

I sit and think about the machines winding down; one moment here, the next gone.

I should be fine because I've moved on but only because there is nothing left of you.