Three Months

Month 1:

The dreams are a struggle.

I see you all night long.
Tears fall.  My pillow drowning.
From the deluge.

Month 2:

The dreams come less frequently.

I see you off and on.
Tears come less often.
I wonder where you've gone.

Month 3:

I'm still struggling.

But I'm sober.
Sober from your intoxication.
From the pain.
No second-guessing.
No comparing.

Been a long time since you've gone.

But I wake up in less pain.
In less sorrow.
Less, just less.
Of you.