Basking in His Vacancy
Content at night, I whisper to the haloed moon
telling Luna how softly her silvery light glows.
I'm comforted listening to a nightingale's croon
while through my window, a gentle breeze blows.
It's quiet now, in this house he and I once shared.
Half the furniture is gone, the pieces that he took.
Missing photos from walls. He left them half bared
when he moved out like the chess game piece, Rook
I smiled the morning he finally walked out the door
and indulged myself with the echoes of emptiness.
Silence instead of his footsteps I had come to abhor.
I was savoring the absence of his childlike pettiness.
Basking in his vacancy, happy being in my own space
without reasons for feeling angst and being annoyed.
I danced and sang songs about being in a happy place,
peacefully alone. More than ready to embrace the void.
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