Moving

It was rather simple. A little messed up but mostly systematic.
Rip off this poster, pull down that curtain.
Throw away this pile and along with it some memories.
Pick and choose what I may not survive without. The mangy toy as well.
The decorative lights, the coloured bits of glass.
The hand scribbled notes, wrapping paper and thoughts that got stained on the mirror.
Lost a love. Found one. Packed the rest up in dilapidated cartons of vice and hope.
The last dreg of coffee, the empty bottle of wine. Your voice in the stairs and tear stained nights.
Too much to roll up with blankets and tie in a bundle.
Throw it on the floor and it is clean.
Smash it against the sink and keep the shards.
The disturbed sleep, of things that never worked. Spaces I never touched. Dust that always settled,
The breathe of an excuse of a home.
Things we will never miss and those that are like scars.
Losing ground in a blur of tasks. Bills to settle, the laundry, the shirt you left behind.
In a mad scurry to find a home and make one- I never said my goodbyes to you.