Everything Remains the Same

Since the day you left I haven’t fixed the mirror, it fell with a clatter The day you slammed the door shut behind you The pieces laid strewed across the carpet in the hall The frame resting against the umbrella stand I’m scared if I pick up one of the pieces And look into what remains I won’t recognise what I see A mere glimmer of the girl before You left Since the day you left I haven’t cleared the dinner table The dinner plates are still there The candle in the middle of the table Has indeed burnt out Wax has covered the linen cloth Your chair is still overturned And your napkin laid on the floor The microwave door is still open And the dishes remain in the sink Since the day you left I haven’t gone in the bedroom The bed is still unmade One of your drawers is still open Your clothes are still in the closet And the picture of us in the park Remains on my bedside table I want to keep everything the same For if you do eventually come back It will seem nothing has changed But that was last Tuesday And I don’t think you’re coming back