they walk around, meaningless chatter
hands touching what was once so personal
bright pieces of paper stuck on these objects
proudly displaying bargain prices
completely stripping these things of their
true value, the dust has not even settled
the books, the chairs, all of the clothes
no one stops to wonder if parts of her
still linger in the fabric
or in between the pages of words
that kept her company
the pieces of paper are removed as people
greedily clutch what does not belong to them
a stranger's treasures, all that is left
the house is emptier now than it ever was
full of people comfortable in oblivion
that last day, in those final moments
the heaviness of giving up
and how light the burden felt
after the trigger was pulled
the walls will remain
the only witnesses of the
loneliest exit.
1 comment:
i dunno whether to say :) cuz I like it or :( cuz it's sad.
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