I've been staring at the same
Basket of laundry for 30 minutes.
As if my brain is being forced to choose:
Fold laundry or breathe.
As if my body can't physically handle both
That's what the loss of you did to me,
*is doing to me*.
Pictures are just memories,
Burnt slightly around the edges,
Tinged with a bit of grief.
I stay busy to try to forget.
Six days, it's felt like an eternity.
Punishment for ending a life with you.
I've managed to pull out 3 socks,
One tank top,
And a shirt forgot I owned.
I probably washed it by mistake.
Another lost thing, but this one found its way back.
Do I want you to find your way back?
Truthfully, I know the answer,
Just not ready to accept it.
Some losses really are permanent.
YOU ARE READING
I Was Once a Sunflower
PoetryThis poem collection will be about who I used to be, searching for myself, and living when I didnt want to. They are sad, this description serves as my trigger warning.
