What do I do?

How do I act as if you don’t exist,
as if my every thought isn’t occupied by you?

What do I do
when every sweater I own
still smells like you?

Do I burn everything I own?
But what about the memories?

What about that touch
that brings back goosebumps,
reminding me of what you could do to me?

What about these lips
that refused to taste anyone
other than you?

What about these legs,
which seem to know only one direction—
the way to your house?

How do I delete your existence from my mind
when every part of me
is consumed
by all of you?