Divide

Each day's dread is the prospect of the next

Ghosts of old loves cling rings round my neck

I can't see your face, but it's you, I've no doubt

Is your memory lingering or am I forcing you out?

Soon after I took your pictures down from the shelf

I began to find them strewn in depths of myself

I thought there would be continuous fading

But the world moves on while I lie behind waiting

Foresight, I warned you

I knew it, I told you