Ashes To Dust

I wonder how it will feel

to no longer see your face,

to finally be without you

in my home and not our place.

I am familiar with the bed,

the comfort of the sheets,

draped in all the places

that your hands no longer reach.

Quiet mornings I grew fond of,

and your absence a relief,

as I fulfil my morning routine

in the unassuming peace.

I relish the joy of seeing

your car not in its place,

a few more moments free of drama

and excuses that you make.

Emotionally, we’re over.

Just formalities remain.

That little piece of paper

that states things are still the same.

And what of when that paper burns

to ashes and then to dust?

What will our lives become

when there is nothing more to us?