Gone

You're gone. 

Cards keep coming. They are sweet. 

The days are hard. And the nights long. 

The cards are covering the table. 

People visit. They glance at the cards. 

They are little standing pieces of paper symbolizing your absence. 

Time goes by. 

Cards stop coming. 

Do we take them down? Put them away? Can we keep them there forever? 

Like you're coming back to read them. 

Just want you to come back. Make the cards disappear. Wouldn't have a reason for them. 

Days go by. 

The cards are put away. 

We sit in silence. I stare at where they used to be. 

He left one standing. 

She's not coming back.  

The nights are long and the days are empty with out you.