It's been hours since I last heard your footsteps
It was lukewarm and empty
Everything about your speed felt distant and foreign
I was captivated by your puzzling words
I heard you loud and clear after the door closed leaving me behind.
I went out right after you.
I sudden rain shower has already washed away any traces of you on the pathway.
How else could I now find you again?
I was lead instead into a flower shop
I went in and bought myself some forget-me-nots.
Why does your absence feel so good?
YOU ARE READING
Flowers of Scorn
PoetryA modern poetry book about lost love, break ups, betrayal, deception, rejection, and everything after that... My thoughts, my feelings, my own modern poetry.
