I’m sitting on the floor of your bedroom and I’ve just rifled through all of your drawers looking for something to make you human
a vibrator, anything, I don’t care
but I hate that your things are still here without you
folded into neat rows by my grandmother

All I find is a pair of reading glasses 
I’m pretty sure you didn’t put them there they were probably just cluttering up the room
and I think about stealing a scarf with horses on it just to wear and think about you
but no I’ll let my grandmother offer

Missing your funeral is the first adult thing I’ve ever done. 
Fuck this.