Your toothpaste’s in the bathroom,
Your coat is on the hook,
And the headboard from Ikea,
Is brimming with your books.
Your minis on your desk,
Your papers in your drawer,
Your blanket’s on your chair,
But you don’t sit there, anymore.
Your food is in the freezer,
I didn’t want it to go bad.
I do my best to savor,
Every memory we had.
At night when I lay down,
And close my eyes to fall asleep.
I reach my hand out for you,
Your touch I try to keep.
The water in your bottle,
I’ll never empty out.
That bottle holds much more,
All my pain and all my doubt.
Your wallet’s on the table,
Your keys are by the door.
To hear you turn the knob,
Is what I’m waiting for.
But the last I heard that door,
Was when I heard you leave.
“Go to mom,” You said to Hugo,
Before you walked out on the eve.
The art we chose, together,
Hangs on all the walls.
As I think back on that night,
And you ignoring all our calls.
In my dreams I try to stop you,
The night brings no relief.
I close my eyes and picture,
The bridge you lay beneath.
I left our old apartment,
I have a different key.
I brought your things here with me,
But you’re no longer next to me.
No more morning kisses,
No more weekday weekends.
No more Thai food weeknights,
With the man I called my best friend.
How could the voice that said you loved me,
Be the voice that was inside your head?
The same voice that asked me to move on…
How the fuck do you suggest I move on from you being dead?