"This was her favorite mug," Brandon said as he looked at the red mug in his hand,
"She gave it to me before she left, as a memorial of the love we once had, and that was the last time I saw her."
"I know that she left for a good while now," he sighed, "but the way she left stays within me on this very day."
"And truth be told, it fucks me up whenever I think of it."
"I used to stay up just to trace my fingers over her sleeping skin," Brandon told the quiet walls,
"But now," he looked over to the empty side of the bed, "Now I stay up just to trace the shape of her sleeping face at the back of my head,"
"Before time steals it all away."
