There\'s nothing left to eat
in my empty cupboards
not even
a left over biscuit crumb
fallen out of the broken rusty tin
no longer a smell of sweet chocolate on the empty wrappings of the Cadbury bars
we once used to share
happily, on a rainy Sunday evening
there\'s no one on our special chair
the one we shared
and of which nowadays
is favoured by my lonely bitterness
since you are no longer here to touch
I prefer to sit on the cold wooden floor
than to sit alone on that old thing
where once love bloomed fiercly
we\'d watch the birds from the window we used to look out together
it all seems wrong now
same birds
but to me so very different
I could offer them the stale bread I suppose?
but there isn\'t any is there?
the floorboards no longer creek
in the middle of the night
even on nights that you tiptoed
I\'d hear you
no creeks now, just silence, silence of a ghost
the chimes of the old grandfather clock
somberly chiming on each hour
I never noticed the sad tone until now
funny how grief creeps up isn\'t it?
almost as if it\'s drowning you in thin air
throttling you until theres no air left to breathe
and still all I can think is...
there\'s nothing but leftover grief in my empty fridge.