I can imagine waking up next to an empty spot in my bed where the pillow is stained with your scent
Where the sheets are coming off  
And the blanket alone just doesn't seem to keep me warm anymore

A carpet that is pink where clumps of mud from your work boots have been crushed into it
And where your wardrobe used to be scattered

The boxes with your things
Now empty
The stand with your tv and games
Gone
Empty packs of cigarettes and jack bottles where the last stain of your lips remain will be the only thing left of you

The pictures
no more than memories

Memories fade

Just like I imagine we will