No pictures on the wall, no old pair of shoes,
no old bedroom, no obituaries
No one could tell that you used to put your clothes above mine,
hung your towel next to mine,
or that you kissed me after every picture.
I took a stroll in the garden today
My flowers were blooming, tomatoes are growing
I could still see you sitting next to it,
trimming the leaves and pulling petals off wild lilies,
"I love you, I love you not".
Then, you'd kiss me and laugh at how the wind messed up out hair.
I'd fall straight into those eyes that resemble sunsets
When I sleep at night,
I close my eyes and let myself feel hollow.
I sleep in the middle now,
empty spaces covered by pillows and blankets.
You couldn't tell that you used to fall asleep with your palm on my cheek,
lips close to my forehead
my arm draped over your body.
I write in my journal a lot.
I document almost every pain and every joy because
one foot after the other in front.
There is an empty gap between dates unaccounted for now,
no words, no name but yet,
the empty pages sound louder than it should.
When you left,
I left your toothbrush in the cup, maybe if it stayed long enough,
you'd still come back.
When you made yourself comfortable at my place,
you would take cold showers and plant yourself on top of me.
Your towel was still folded and tucked away just in case.
Just in case you changed your mind,
and I would be ready.
I stopped talking about you after 3 months,
it was as if you disappeared.
When people asked,
I said I was busy,
building a strong body, a career, a life for myself.
busy,
looking past shadows that looked like you
ignoring perfume that smells like you
running right through restaurants, malls and places that remind me of you.
I am a smothered forest fire site,
my limbs, scorched marks and sooty smoke
you couldn't figure out the end of the place if you tried
You were long gone,
took the bridge with you and set me ablaze
It felt like I haven't been breathing anyway
what else could I do except to sit here and rebuild?
