Separation

It will only seem like
I hung a giant placard
by my door
saying
goodbye
like how a teardrop
hangs at the curve of my cheek
waiting for you
to solemnly wipe it off

Quietly
I look around
and I find you
sitting in all of the places
where I live my life

I will fold all your memories
and make them seem
like they're not as grand
as they are
or as they used to be

I will go around the house
and put them in places
where I'm not likely to see them:
under a teacup i never use
behind the rice cooker box
or in a stash at the underground basement
where there are things I tend to forget

When I make my bed in the morning
I will flap the sheets
as if I was whisking off all the things
which remind me of you
of that bed
of your scent
and your sweat
and the mild bumps that you leave
everytime you lay there

then I will go to the kitchen,
to the bathroom
to the terrace
and keep everything
good-for-one only
no his-and-hers
no other things in pairs

and when I fixed everything
in the house I used to call my home
I will sit in a corner
indulge in the silence
and as I unplug the telephone cord
I will decide
that I will never
let you hear from me again

not even the sound
of the whimpers when I
cry but do not intend to be heard
not even the sound
of my footsteps as I walk to your door
but turn around and leave anyway
not even the sound
of your name
escaping from my lips
unconsciously when I'm half asleep

not even the sound
of my heart breaking
into pieces
I cannot find
I cannot find
I cannot find




Written: December 28, 2009