I don't want to be here
when the walls come crashing down
when our bed is mine again, when
even my pillow smells like me again

I don't want to be here
when my sheets are washed
when any remnant of our love, when
the creases are ironed of us

I don't want to be here
when your clothes are no longer yours
when they are tucked in my drawers,
instead of strewn on my floor

I don't want to be here
when happiness is a distant memory
when there is no one to smile at, when
I'm not woken up by you again.