It’s time to go, I think, but there’s nothing I can do, there’s nowhere I can go. This little house is our house, not just my house anymore. Three other souls are home here, and why should there be a switch because I can’t get my shit together? I wake early now, much earlier than you, to do the things you used to do like pace the floors and weep. I am praying that someday soon these words will take a turn for the better, that I’ll find out someday whether I can write poetry when I’m happy. For now, there’s only this. For now, I’m living in my fog of what ifs and could have beens, and I just wish I were living with you again. The one I fell in love with. Where’d you go?

Today’s poetry prompt words were: time to go, switch, and fog.

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