Ironed shirts

I think he’s gone

Can’t be possible he didn’t say anything about leaving while at dinner

I think he’s gone

Check all rooms, he must’ve left a note somewhere

I think he left us, me

The light in the living room it’s different

I think he left me

No ironed ironic shirts in the bedroom hangers

So many years ago and he didn’t leave the house factually

Circular ironic abandonment haze

The sun light entering the room was different, is still different

Circular abandonment haze and no shirts

He thinks I left him

The new girlfriend told me

Circular abandonment both ways it seems

He truly feels it was actually me packing up my pink and selfish shirt to walk away from him


No more recurrent dreaming about ironed shirts

I probably left him too in a way

No more changing lights and no ironing my shirts again

I’m moving out from that feeling here and now

(I truly hope)

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