I cleaned today. I know you always pointed out what a mess this apartment was.
And I always brushed it off with some excuse. Blame.
But never myself.
I washed the sheets. Towels, Old t-shirts and oversized jackets.
So they won’t smell like you anymore.
I changed the bedding, fluffed the pillows, flipped the mattress.
Tried to fill in the space you left behind.’till there was no evidence, no imprint of the side you once claimed as your own.
I washed all the dishes. Same meal for weeks now. T.V dinners, Ice Cream, Self sabotage, a side of depression.
I threw out the beer bottles and bourbon bottles in an attempt to drown out your voice… but my guilt is boyant, floating —just—-above—-the surface.
I took my first deep breath, lips surrounding the colorful opening of an old pipe. Take the edge off.
It’s an Rx, you know
….for the pain?
Everything tingles and my eyes only have to be half open. My life apathy now reflected outward.
I swept the floor, retracing and erasing footprints left behind as I helplessly trailed behind you.
You showed me tenderness, gratitude, beauty in the simple things. I never stood a chance.
Tired. Thirsty. I took a break, threw a jacket over my three-day worn pajamas, braced myself for the wind chill and walked a block and a half to Pete’s.
It was the first time I’d been outside all week. The sun was already down.