brown couches

I close the lid of your escape box
to keep your memories
to keep them safe
awaynearby?

I hide away your ring and paint my
nails black because
it is a depression I cannot
fail to acknowledge
this time
tying together fallen hair into
knots of stress, I
cover spots where I buried
myself in tears, once
I don't like sleeping in beds anymore,
in fact, I don't like sleeping
at all because you remind me
of nightmares, like always it
terrifies me because your favourite song
is me, right now, mumbling lines like
ican'tfigureitoutit'sbringingmedown

i count empty pages at the back of
our diary, my diary of you and
wonder, ponder, imagine what that could have been filled with, the stories the tears
the laughter the (false) hopes
knowing, hurting, falling because
I know now that I'll never find out.

--------------------------
poet's note: now reading The Last Tear I Shed For You after this will be appropriate.