desolation

Its strange
(in such a brief time)
How you had written your
self, all over my life.
How, now,
even the simple things
bring
memories of you.
Your crooked smile growing
in the corner of my eye.
The ghosts of your fingers on my skin.
Your smell still lingering on clothing.
Tears and soap
can only wash away
so much.
Your absence
is all around me.
How painful it is
to try to enjoy
my favorite
films. novels. songs.
they are all alive
and screaming out
your name.
Like dusty signs that read
"He was here. Now he is gone."