Since you left

I've been just fine.

Half of our plates got broken in the washer

and that yellow mug you liked so much

fell off the side 

and smashed into a million peices,

Those curtains that you put up,

fell down.

Your clock fell off the wall

that morning when you were gone,

time stopped when it exploded on the floor.

You armchair had an accident

and burnt itself to the ground

along with all the photographs

of us together.

Your half of the bed

in a fit of depression

jumped out of the window

and died on the concrete below.

But yes, I'm doing fine,

thanks for asking.