Under the impression


That you've thrown them away, for a year.

Turns out you didn't.

I feel so lied to and cheated.

Why is she still here
When I am in your room?
Her presence fills every corner
Her clothes
Her bags
Her shoes
Her makeup
All left as they were the day she was gone.
Have I not taken up the emptiness that she left behind?
You said it was because of laziness
I did not pursue
But how lazy can one get to hurt the one he loves?
Excuses
Excuses
I don't want no excuses
It hurts deeply every time I step into your room
Every single time
It cuts like a blade deep into my already bleeding heart
Hast thou no conscience?

I was wrong to say it's over. It's not.

You're not lazy. You just don't want to throw them away.