The key they’d given me still fit the lock,
but the house no longer felt like home.
The familiar photos still hung on the wall,
But I feel so completely alone.
It’s been eight months since you left,
Not that you had the choice.
But you left me here by myself dammit,
& I really need to hear your voice.
This house is my house, but no…
it’s not a home.
Because you should be here,
Not under a head...
