Bedroom Mourning

By Emmy-Lou Norton

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I lay in the bedroom 
that holds my labyrinth of memories; 
that cover every inch of the carpet 
the walls 
the wardrobe 
the furniture 
the windows 
For the last time. 

The walls that held photographs of now lost friends,  
The wardrobe that held our clothes and I hid cigarettes in.  
The furniture we carried through the suburbs and hills,  
where I would soon devour my favourite words. 
The windows that I watched people leave through 
for the last time.

Laughter with tears in our eyes 
Tears in our eyes that soaked into the carpet from 
drinking, laughing, fighting, yelling, throwing, tension

loving

Words that I cried, words that I sang, words that I wrote and stewed in for months 
have boiled through my skin 
and they stain the carpet

The carpet holds memories I thought I wished to forget 
but now 
I am grateful to have known

I say goodbye to my mourning  
and try to only think of 
the morning