Happiness is.

Finding the traces of you
lingering in the empty spaces
you left behind
in the drawer filled with air
on the desk filled with dust
on the chair that has turned cold
makes me search you like a frantic fool.

I pant.
I cry.
I ask people around.
“Has anyone seen this person?”
I scream.

“No. He isn’t here.
We haven’t seen him.”

Finding the traces of you
inside my drawer
in form of things I love
in form of things you’ve left behind
besides the emptiness
in form of memories
we’d made
makes me closer to you like a frantic fool.

I cry.
I smile.
I laugh.
“Thank you for the happiness”
I text.

“I’ll always be around”
came reply.

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