Twenty Years

The leaving happened slowly
and reminded me of that black cat we once had
that used to sneak into the cellar.
The only way I knew it had been there
were the cobwebs clinging to its whiskers.
You never seemed to notice them
or the ones that existed in corners
inside of me.
Those were places created by you,
places that still held a thick, musty scent,
places where emotions collected like dust
throughout the years.
Once upon a time
I believed I could just close the door
and memories would remain behind me,
but no matter how many times I was hugged
or told how much I was loved
that dark place festered and spun
cobwebs that clung to my thoughts.
It was twenty years later,
but not too late,
when I decided to take up my broom,
become your witch,
clear the clutter,
and fly away.