perhaps

it was when she began
removing the nails from the
wall being careful not
to ruin her posters
any further,
                                  or maybe
it was when she packed
up her belongings and
souvenirs into little boxes
that used to hold reams
of computer paper,
                                  or maybe
it was when my memories
and dreams and words
began to echo off the walls
and throughout the empty
room always trailing off
somewhere inside the
lightless closet,
                                  either way
it was then that i
finally realized she was
on her way and those
tears on my cheeks weren't
really because i got
something in my eye.

-published in PoetryRepairShop