What a QuaranTIME to be Alive

it's your favourite kind of weather tonight. stormy, windy, not too cold but cold enough to want to curl up on your favourite chair and soak it all in. i brewed your favourite cup of chai tonight. ginger, cinnamon and tea leaves steeped in water and  boiled with milk for as long as it takes to sing two  of your favourite songs. i made your favourite bowl of maggi tonight. soupy, but not too soupy. it's warm and comforting. i leaned forward and let the  steam condense on my face like you used to do. i leaned my head against the windowsill and  drew smiley faces on the window with my breath. i listened to your favourite album on repeat using every lyric, every melody, to try and call you home. it's been a while since i've heard you sing or seen you dance like you did before. i wait at the door and i worry  for you, out there alone, punishing yourself for a crime you did not commit. so i make all your favourite things and i sing all your favourite songs while the world out