Everything Remains the Same
Since the day you left
I haven’t fixed the mirror, it fell with a clatter
The day you slammed the door shut behind you
The pieces laid strewed across the carpet in the hall
The frame resting against the umbrella stand
I’m scared if I pick up one of the pieces
And look into what remains
I won’t recognise what I see
A mere glimmer of the girl before
You left
Since the day you left
I haven’t cleared the dinner table
The dinner plates are still there
The candle in the middle of the table
Has indeed burnt out
Wax has covered the linen cloth
Your chair is still overturned
And your napkin laid on the floor
The microwave door is still open
And the dishes remain in the sink
Since the day you left
I haven’t gone in the bedroom
The bed is still unmade
One of your drawers is still open
Your clothes are still in the closet
And the picture of us in the park
Remains on my bedside table
I want to keep everything the same
For if you do eventually come back
It will seem nothing has changed
But that was last Tuesday
And I don’t think you’re coming back
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