When’d you last stay the night?
I don’t even want to guess.
Though it doesn’t stop me hoping,
Buying enough groceries for two—like that would make you stay.
If gestures could move you,
You’d be in my arms already.
Watching—waiting—as the groceries go off,
In a home that only hears the voice of one.
I remember waking up to you,
In our bathroom—smiling—as you shaved.
Why does it feel—like a lifetime of loss,
Is replacing all of the happiness I once held?
Your shaving cream,
Half full.
For how long?
It’s well past the ‘use by’ date.
I don’t want to call this relationship—dragged on,
My heart betraying the pain felt—whenever I see your face.
No longer smiling—not for me,
And yet—freshly shaven still.
You know—that I know,
So why can we never acknowledge it with words?
This relationship,
It’s long since expired.