Like Sand.

I've traded the blues
for the wide-eyed browns.

I've packed up my life,
for new states, new towns.

I'm sick in the heart,
though I'm hoping to mend.

But I miss my lover,
miss my best friend.

In my bed I have trouble,
I feel your hair run through my hands.

I wake up and you're gone,
slipped through my fingers like sand.