Its time to pack
your tear-stained leather suitcase,
throw the rest in a binbag
lined with your dirt.
Stare around at the crumbling four
the empty mantel and
You’ve wasted your time.
Collect your mind and belongings
there’s little stuff left
but its better you grab the scratched
Tread the creaking floorboards under
abused by thrown alcohol and
forgetful drug haze.
Leave a bittersweet note
of perfume and lingering scripture
beside the cracked photo frame and
Don’t tidy what is permanent.
Clear out a carton of soured milk
and pour contents of nothingness
down the grime-lined sink,
weary of the ever constant washing
Turn out the door
into sodden streets littered by falling
lock your mistakes and unhappy endings
behind the small semblance of sanity
you have left.