What kind of notice do I have to give you, to get you out of my head?

      Rent ain't cheap these days, but you've been roaming my thoughts for free.

     If you did your share, I'd be more than happy to host you.

     But you're barely present; taking up space that another could better appreciate.

     Maybe it's my fault.

     Maybe I've accidentally locked your baggage inside, with the hope that you'd one day come back for it.

      Maybe you have zero intention of coming back for your baggage, and have left it for me to dispose of.

     If so be it, I'll pack your things.

     I'll fill a suitcase and toss it on the side of the road.

     But you haven't told me what you want.

     So, like a love-sick fool, I wait.

     Be warned that I will only wait so long.

     Maybe you're house shopping and hope to come back if you discover that mine is the best option.

      But this option won't be available much longer.

     I'm clicks away from calling the realtor agent; clicks away from finding a new tenant.

     Your rent is up, love.

      Not only is it due, you're late on a few payments.

      If you intend of maintaining such occupancy in my head, I will need something in return.

      This is meant to be a partnership.

      I will not house the ghost of you.

      Come back soon, or you might find that your key is missing, along with a suitcase with your name on my front porch.