In which I wax poetic and sentimental after seeing “10 Shocking Photos That Will Change How You See Consumption and Waste”

Left

The day you left,
I looked at photos
Of crushed cars
In dejected piles,
Discarded cell phones,
Old circuit boards
That had served their purpose,
Broken glass scattered
In dangerous heaps,
Shredded steel
That had lost its grit.
And finally, a tattered
Photo of you and me,
Grinning wildly,
Bed hair (and morning breath)
On tousled sheets.
I took one last look
At our dishevelled bliss,
Our tiny, once-happy
Plastic bubble before
It burst in front of me.

The day you left,
I folded all your clothes
And cramped them
In the suitcase you brought
When you moved in
But you didn’t take with you
When you went out
To see the world again.
I pried your reluctant books
From the defiant arms
Of my weather-worn shelves
And laid them to rest
In stackable plastic boxes.
But the music CD’s
Refused to leave
Their esteemed place
By your side of the bed.
To this day, they are stationed
There like faithful soldiers
In plastic and paper cases,
Their singing the last thing
I hear before I drift off to sleep.

The day you left,
The sky held its own
And the sun still shone
Until dusk tiptoed in.
Then I hung a purple star
And a tinfoil moon
By our small window.
And I drew pictures
Of the world
You were going to see
Without me.
Then I drew one of you
Grinning wildly,
A star in one hand,
The moon in another.
And finally, one of me
Curled up in a suitcase
No one was going to take.
In my hand, a photograph.
My eyes, metal scraps
Shedding slivers of steel.
My heart, a shard of glass.

12 April 2014

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