this is what i'm left with,
blank walls of a cold basement.
moving on seems so easy sometimes,
but this is where i spend each night
and it's lonely.

sometimes i'm able to fall asleep,
only to wake up abruptly;
half expecting to turn over and see your face
doing that mouth half open, eyes half closed thing.
but it's him there, because you're not around anymore

i don't love him or them, but they
never go away
(they come when i ask them to.)
faithful ******* specks
of dust clinging onto a broken piano
or a tired old bookshelf
whose books don't get opened anymore.

i miss you the most at night,
and lately it seems
like the night
never ends.