Papers Scattered Everywhere

You left your papers scattered everywhere
Glimpses into what is your reality
Letters to a god you don't believe in
Written only to pretend you have a sense
Of protection from this horrible world
A world where you have piles of bills
Hiding beneath empty packs of cigarettes.
You left your first draft of a poem
Covered in eraser marks and coffee stains
But I can still see
You wrote it about cocaine, not me.
You left a shopping list: deodorant and whiskey
You left some receipts from drugstores and takeout
You left a stench of weed and cigarette smoke behind.
Honestly, you were a mess.
But we would be messes together.
I don't know why you left.
You left me.