The Toothbrush

I sit here crying
Watching you walk out the door
I gave you everything I had,
And still you wanted more.

You leave
With my shredded heart in your pocket
And the memories of our love
In the boxes shoved carelessly onto the elevator.

You press the down button and wait
Painful hesitation ensues, then the elevator rings
Fourth floor, you get in
And leave my life with the creak of the door.

Part of you remains
Your scent on the furniture,
A mismatched sock, a note on the refrigerator,
And your toothbrush.

Surely you'll come back for your toothbrush,
I think hopefully
But days pass and the toothbrush is still here
A monument to dead love.

The toothbrush gets pushed aside
Hidden by perfume and lotion
Replaced by new things, a new life
But, like the memory of you, not completely forgotten.

Then one day, I find it again.
It has been pushed far out of sight
And completely out of mind.
I look at it, then with a shrug
Toss it in the trash.
I have moved on.