Stain

I am definitely quite glad that the stain is gone, it was pretty f*****g gross.

I left that picture up, I don't know if I'll ever take it down.

This is a rite of passage, a pilgrimage I didn't agree to.

I am blue, sullen. Watch me sink.

Find somewhere under it all,

Find me somewhere you wouldn't look,
I won't find me again.

_

That picture is still on my bed side table,
But your bed side, is empty.

Just that stain,
A sordid reminder of what one cycle will erase,

And I'll lose the last physical presence of you,

But I've already lost a lot.