leave your wrinkled white t-shirts scattered on my bedroom floor.

leave your scent and your records and all your rough edges.

abandon your heavy breath in between my bed sheets,
an eyelash and your hand-written notes and your self-esteem.

leave the curve of your lips on the edge of my desk,
along with your pen and your empty cigarettes.

leave all of you behind for me to swallow and choke on.
leave it all, for the moment that I begin to miss you.

oh, and please do not forget to leave me
your spark and your spectral light.