Leaving might be the saddest thing in life

Leaving might be the saddest thing in life.

To count or hesitant to count the days, to face

Reality

Concerning throwing a desk away, and the like,

such minuscule, worth a big fight

Or at the split moment of intolerance,

contemplating an early termination to confuse with cure. 

Yet, with what fortune,

were blocked one after another. Godspeed.

Communication, listening, concrete goals. The direction

is clear like crystal. Decision or existence 

is but not a single moment. And

always in the mundane of life. 

Facing the reality is commonplace

by destroying all the moving boxes, filled with outdated magazines.

and all the relevant traces of life.

transforming into boxes of sanitizable foreign signifiers,

erasure. 

Quiet goodbye was announced with the early garbage pick-up in the morning.

Tacit and light. 

And still,

Leaving might be the hardest thing to expunge in life.