Absence isn't punctuated

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I used to think there were people living under my stairs
But now I love you too much to think such silly things
I take my medicine just like you said I should
I no longer sleep with the light on
Or crack the door to catch a glimpse of the mirror
In fact I sleep so sound that you wouldn’t even know I was there
And sometimes you don’t.
I don’t mind waking up alone
My mornings will have to do without you
Hands outstretched tracing the sheets for a body
I come up wanting
Searching frantically like a mad woman, grasping nothing but your absence
Shifting through the house picking up your secrets and my pride
If I could find a way to turn off emotions I would escape
But you call that “ill-talk” and I am not well
I am love sick-poisoned-I think
Dazed, unrealistic, doting and obsessed: the symptoms should read
I changed the locks this morning
But challenges could never keep you out
Your foot was half way in the door as I made my final exit.

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