from bed, i’m done waiting

while opening the door to your mistakes

i was worried about you

wondering where you were hiding in a house you wouldn’t leave

comfort is the only thing i could rely on you needing, certainly not me

i opened every closet door slowly, a whiff of your memory wafted by the door as hinges creaked and i slowly peaked panting begging-breathes that you were ok

hide-and-go seek

i counted past ten, to twenty, i forgot how old you were, “i’m coming!”

you were in, and around, every corner

a piece of you

slippers wanted, never worn

family games shrink wrapped, never torn

children’s clothes, waiting to be born

he won’t be

to you

i can’t continue carrying my blood stains as a measure of our mistakes, misfortunate lakes-of-love, we used to paddle around in peddle boats pushing in unison to a shore where we found soft fertile ground waiting to be penetrated, holding the one memory we could have clung to

we didn’t, it proved to be fruitless

rains came and washed our seeds away

we saw it as wasted time

i need to get my stuff and go, i’ll leave the doors open, come out when you’re ready

i’ll never know

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