blanddiva11: cheetos, and old shoe, and a box of tampons. GO!
It was all that was left of her, aside from her scent in the pillows. The pillows we bought together, thinking we’d be sleeping side by side forever.
And the memories.
At first, I am angry. I want to take these things of hers and set them on fire, throw them away, cast them from my sight.
But the feeling passes.
I lay on my bedroom floor (so strange to write my instead of our) and place them in front of me.
In my mind, I write a poem. A threnody, if you will.
Then, I say my farewells. The Cheetos taste of bitter tears. The old shoe is redolent of death. The box of tampons goes under the bathroom sink just in case there’s some honey sleeping over who needs one and then I can be all ta-da!
