I haven’t recovered from seeing my kitchen empty

Walls a sellable white

Market white

Cabinets empty, but still full of stickers I couldn’t get off

My last reflection in the microwave 

Putting lipgloss on

My last attempt to pretend it’s a normal day

I haven’t recovered from my green walls painted white

Market white, a sellable white

The closet empty

Plumbing neglected, we couldn’t keep up

The toilet leaks

A shell of a home that used to be

I haven’t recovered from my silks taken down

Where I once used to hang

Now a hole in the ceiling 

A library that now echoes, missing the photos of us

The great room with us, tree, and piano 

I haven’t recovered from this hole in my heart

A house I could hear

Now silent and empty 

The stone wall on the beach

Where the sun used to shine, could go up the hill

and I could go home