I can look at his face now.
After such an excruciatingly long time,
I can finally look at his face now,
And ask him why.
Why did he kiss me
and leave?
Why didn't he come to see me?
Why didn't he call to formally say goodbye?
Seconds crawled so slowly,
I waited for the storm in my chest to cease,
I didn't know I was this angry,
Until I got a glimpse of his face.
He still wore that familiar grin,
That smile that captured me.
I wanted to slap it away,
Instead, I said, "Hi" politely.
But I can look at his face now.
Before, I couldn't
Even in my peripheral vision—
Now, I finally can.
YOU ARE READING
What Love Used To Look Like
Poetry"What Love Used To Look Like" is a collection of short prose, poems, and contemplations about love, hurt, disappointments, and brokenness anyone experiences or has experienced at least once in their short lives. The collection intends to show the di...
