Missing

I have an empty house.
I have pictures.
I have no one left.
I have a garage full of basketballs that carry another’s prints.
I have abandoned Buzz Lightyear sheets.
I have empty tissue boxes.
I have a second mortgage.
I have a worn out Doctor Seuss.
I have a car full of clothes and electronics I can’t use.
I have a dented bumper.
I have boxes of comic books and action figures I am too old for.
I have fifteen years of dust layered on tickets to the zoo.
I have Disney classics on VHS.
I have a mitt that never caught a ball.
I have sports idols gazing at no one.
I have scribbled drawing of dragons and far away lands.
I have every other week.
I have nothing to keep me up at night.
I have an Xbox waiting.
I have a Pokèmon card in my wallet.
I have shoes I can’t fit a hand in.
I have memories.
I have five hours to let him know I remember.
I have chances I never took.
I have to let go.