Morning hits the glass too hard,
White light flaring my eyes.
Your cup still sweats a ring on wood,
Cold like you just stepped outside.
The room keeps your memory wrong—
Too quiet where you were.
The cat moves once, then settles back,
Like it almost heard.

You’re not gone—
Just out of frame.
Still here
In the shape of things.
Not gone—
Just elsewhere now,
Like heat that hasn’t lifted yet.

The street growls with early trucks,
Pigeons snap the day awake.
Your jacket hangs with your shoulders in it,
A wardrobe prop waiting for another take.
Time doesn’t break or move ahead,
It idles in the light.
Every sound arrives half late,
Everything’s mid-flight.

You’re not gone—
Just out of frame.
Still here
In the way I stand.
Not gone—
Just off to the side,
Like a hand I almost take.

If I turn, you might be there.
If I don’t, you’re everywhere.
In the pause before a name,
Another breath blows out the flame.
No ending sound.
No closing door.
Just thinking of where you are.
Like the sun behind a cloud—
Same time of day leaves a different mark.

Afternoon thins into long shadows,
Dust floats slow and bright.
Staring at the ceiling fan,
As it turns without a sound.
I don’t just miss you—
That’s too clean.
I adjust my weight instead.
The floor still knows how you move,
Every corner echoes what you said

You’re not gone—
Just out of frame.
Still here
Where nothing's the same.
Not gone—
Just not right now,
Like a wave before it breaks.


Not Gone (Memory)

Myk Eff Records