is no longer your home
I took your pictures off the wall
neatly packed and tucked away
Physical reminders of your presence, out of sight
but your memory,
still clouds, darkens
cluttering this place.
And each day,
I replace a piece of furniture
Bit by bit, taking back what’s mine
Making it my own again
No, this heart is not your home
But it doesn’t feel like mine
packed up most of her possessions
and finally left.
That’s the first step...
I wish I could say
the place feels lighter now
But hate appears to have occupied the empty space
Bringing along his playmate, sorrow
insisting they’re a packaged deal.
Admitting she’s actually
the brains of the operation, the mastermind.
The one pulling the strings.
I’m restlessly waiting for
indifference to acclimate
and chase them both away