Tidy, now you’ve gone.
There’s too much space.
Enough room to swing that cat of yours.
Stillness drips from walls
pooling into seas of silent nothing.
Ghosts tease me into searching shadows
and all the you-sized spaces.
The bathroom’s free, the chairs all mine
and I can surf the TV with reckless abandon.
I write BLISS in the steamy mirror
and rub it out before the final S is drawn.
Tomorrow I’ll blast out talk shows,
sprinkle crumbs on the carpet
and pile clothes in random places.
I’ll leave the cap off the toothpaste,
forget to flush the toilet
and miss the bin with every shot.
My shoes will live separate lives at the back door
while bikes stand rusting in the rain.
Until you return,
I will fill this world with chaos
eat with my fingers and leave the lights on
so you can find the way home.