broken lava lamp

Whitenoise ticking from the clock
filling my empty world.
Unfurnished naked and bare,
jut the way I liked you
sitting here continuinhg to stare
into this dead space as it
all unfurls.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.

The longest week of my life
rumagaing through that attic space
riddance to all memories,
burn all photos attempt to deface
what I now hate.

Boxes soggy not from damp rain
from my heavy tears.
carried out to the doorstep,
people rumage through
our happy times we shared and felt
as they pass by this exhaling
lonely phase.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.

The longest week of my life
rumagaing through that attic space
riddance to all memories,
burn all photos attempt to deface
what I now hate.

Our yuka plant out there to fend
for dying itsself.
thankfully we had no children
our time spent together
our lives summed up in boxes.
that broken lava lamp another
dead promise.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.