Toothbrushes

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Our toothbrushes lie side by side
On the counter
Like an old married couple
Somehow symbolic of what we’ve become.
Still,
Silent,
Inanimate.
Objectified by the closeness we once shared.
A glob of green toothpaste
Clings to the edge of the basin.
I can almost tell it’s his by the shape
But I am the sloppy one
So he’ll say it is mine.
Not that it matters.
I am merely postponing the inevitable with useless thought.
My boxes are scattered from room to room
Filled with myself, or the things I am made of.
I toss a dozen dried flowers into a garbage sack full of beer cans.
I won’t look back
When I fasten the twist tie.
At least not with tears.
It’s reality.
The music grows louder.
Sunday smiles through the window
Gray with clouded over emptiness
The way I fee inside.
I wish the song would end
It is heart wrenching to close the door for the last time
With my favorite album playing in the background
Caressing our memories of here.
Irony
Again
Suddenly the whole world listens to my pain
Through speakers of misunderstanding.
God must be here now
It’s either a sign or some kind of karma.
I slide the apartment key off of the silver ring he gave to me.
The little loop is bent with the scars of overuse.
Another empty circle in my hand.
The gold key on the plastic,
Wood simulated tabletop laughs back as I place it there
No longer victim to my mental vacancy
Or the way I would lose it three times per day.
I think we’ll miss it.
The trauma of our friction,
The pain of indecision,
The warmth of always knowing
Someone waits at home with light on.
Another goodbye,
A change of season,
A simple drifting apart from friendliness.
It’s comforting to hurt this way.
Familiarity burns in my chest
Like it has before
But different in that this time
I was almost used to being happy.
Almost
Saved me again.
I look around myself
Thinking he will be safer
Without my lunacy to shade his space
And all of the razor blades I leave behind
Slightly caked with the blood
Of all that is horrid.
I wonder what he must be thinking?
But I already know.
His handwritten words jump back at me
From my mind.
A flashback from a letter I should not have seen
But read anyway just to spite him.
I think I’ll pretend I’m leaving for vacation,
Or a promotion,
Or because I fell in love.
It’s too disconcerting to remind myself
I leave for nothing more than my old habits
Which drilled holes in everything beautiful.
Life
Under construction one more time
A new foundation
Probably on sand
And probably as temporary as my sanity is today.
But it’s okay
I learn from loss.
I reach for my toothbrush.
The very last of all I own
But I can’t make the separation.
So I leave it
Hoping he’ll save it with the happier times…………..

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