Norwegian Wood

Second week

The bed is undone and cold.
The paned window still is closed.

Fourth week

The door left unlocked, again.
Old bad habits you see.
The key is still under
that silly pot,
as it was
two months ago.

Fifth week

Guess will have to
clean it up.
The mess on my bed.
I left his untouched
and waited for him to come back
so he could tell me
what a great job i have done,
in all, without him.

Sixth week

The posters,
The stick-ons,
The pictures,
that I hated
and still do, well
I left them there,
couldn’t take them down.
Because I know Storm would be mad,
when he’ll be back.

Seventh week

Met Miles,
“Storm has left the dorm.”
I was told.
Couldn’t question why,
didn’t wonder when.
Went back to
my dorm
and suddenly it hit me,
maybe I wouldn’t mind
him waking me up
six in the morning, again.
Maybe I would mind
a dorm,
less like home.

© 2019 _occultatum_

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