as i watch the world pass by outside my window
(and by world, i mean
the seven screaming seagulls
that seem to survive only off my negative emotions
rather than a diet of fish and scraps from the burger place below)
as i watch the world go by,
i think about my want.
i want to write you a love story
a story of my love
but really all i can think about is the fact that
the pillow on your side of the bed
retains your smell
and it will fade completely soon
so every second i don’t spend
with my face buried in that fabric
is wasted time.
my room is littered with your love:
the mug you bought me because i broke my favourite
the plant you gave me to shut me up,
the lamp you sent me a week into our
the diffuser i got myself that you didn’t like
but i wanted something that was mine and only mine,
the muffins you left me that i can’t eat without
crying (just a little bit, just for you),
the wasted plastic bag your birthday present came in,
i will throw it out i promise.
how can i write when my head is cloudy and
my thoughts are sinking beneath the weight of
everything you left behind.
Art by Desiree Finlayson