I'll write something funny tomorrow! I promise!
The old chair in the living room is empty.
We each fought for the sofa, now it's free.
And so is the remote control, and so it's like the days of old
before you ever came to live with me.
And there are lots more spaces on the bookshelves,
and in the closets, and in all the drawers,
and tabletops and bassinets, and I won't miss that bedroom set,
but the heart is never empty, only sore:
and it's nothing and it's everything, the silence you confer
on all the empty spaces where you were.
And that tiny bathroom closet's gotten bigger now,
and I can use both pillows if I choose.
I'll get my way in everything. Once again, I am the king --
so why is it I only feel I lose?
All my things stay just exactly where I put 'em,
even if I shouldn't put 'em there.
It's been six days since I caved, that's the last time that I shaved
but I just can't bring myself to care.
And our photographs are put away, our history interred
in all the empty spaces where you were.
I've still got the sofa, and the bookshelves,
the remote control, and that torn old chair.
I've still got more things than that. I've even got the goddamn cat.
Everything important still is there.
Everything I need and ever wanted,
Everything that makes me who I am
Everything, I guess that's true, everything except for you:
life happens when you're making other plans.
The things that I still have are mine, but empty's all I see
like the empty spaces in your heart
the empty spaces in your heart
the empty spaces in your heart
where I used to be.
