{april 29, 2011}
daisy,
i'd be lying if i said i wasn't hurting a little, still.
it's been thirty two days,
& i guess i miss a few things.
like the way you would hum,
you always hummed.
i miss seeing your tiny shoes at the front door
because you wouldn't dare walk in the house with them on.
i miss having to reach things for you.
i would put things on the top shelf,
just so i could feel like you needed me for something.
i miss the way you made coffee every morning,
i wasn't a fan of the taste, but the smell was incredible.
you were kind of incredible, too.
i miss the way you left notes around the house,
i threw them all away, though.
i miss your handwriting, daisy.
but i miss the sound of your voice, too.
