Left Behind

The only day I dread more

Than the day you leave

Is when the remnants of your stay

Begin to leave, too.


Eventually I’ll stop

Finding stray eyelashes

That cling to my pillow case,

And your scent will stop

Lingering on the sleeves

Of all my clothes.

The echo of your laughter

Will fade from the room

That you left feeling hollow,

Until the only thing

I have left of you

Is the memories in my mind.
But even those become fuzzy over time.


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