Postcards From the Room Next Door

You were gone, though you had never left on a long vacation, from yourself they'd arrive in batches, every day no return address, no greeting Questions, feelings, hope was fleeting then missing died, one lonely day as did the heart that still lay beating in the empty room next door No warm goodbyes, or teary eyes no last dance to an old, sad song just picture postcards, curled and fading fading, like our memories