When you leave we don’t say goodbye anymore. I don’t pause to put down my coffee and stand to get one last hug and kiss from you, I don’t tell you I love you, I don’t walk you to the door so I can shut it quietly behind you. Later, I’m cold as ice and turn my head from you, I don’t want to look at you, especially as we decorate the tree with things you dragged from the basement without me asking. This was going to be our first real Christmas in our home, and now it’s going to be just another day I struggle to hold back the tears. I’m going to be smiling at my family with you by my side, hoping no one sees the salty stripes left streaking down my face. One day you’re going to break my heart so hard you’ll kill me. 

Today’s poetry prompt words were: maybe I will, the basement, and stripes.

_{Photo by Luba Ertel on Unsplash}