Out the window

'I leave pieces of paper, pieces of myself along the way'
And I am walking behind you, picking them up.
I am rearranging them, and sticking them together, clutching to my heart a collage face that never truly existed.

He carried the shopping bags and she carried them both

I am keeping every scrap of paper, every text, every memory of your face,  your name.

I am hoarding away every miniscule scrap of you that I can gather, 

cos you might not be here in the morning

and don't you dare buy a friggin' suitcase...

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