04:30.

This night, I went to bed in the tshirt you left behind.
Right before I fell into slumber, I thought about the way your hair smells like after you fix it, the way you used to stare at me, your sleepy eyes in the morning, the way my fingers fit snug in your large overworked smoke-stained hands, your obsessive coke-for-water habit, our firstkiss, our first fight, followed by all our petty quarrels, and then of our entire dysfunctional relationship.
And then I stopped, remembering what you said and how my heart dropped at that moment; "memories don't mean a thing".
And although accompanied by some fallen tears, a faint smile carefully broke; I am sentimental like that.
Then I heard,

tung tung -

the sound of emptiness

(and the pet name of one).