You bring your hand up to your brown and graying hair, using your slender fingers to push the soft strands, tainted with smoke, up from your face. Your eyes stare back at me with disdain.
On the silver ashtray on the table,
you snuff out your cigarette:
I'm tired of trying to make you love me -
I can't control your
body or your mind, nor the
actions you choose to take.
...But I can decide how to move on,
and I chose to move on
without you.
- Libertarian mantra.
[I watch as birds perch
on the bench in the public square
of the university you used to
go to.
I look up at the dark sky,
and see stars shining
like never before.
There was never a moment
when I regretted
choosing myself
over you.]
YOU ARE READING
Daisies Flew Over the Garden!
PoesiaStep into a world of wonder with Daisies Flew Over the Garden! - a mesmerizing collection of intimate poetry that unlocks the secrets of the human experience. Enchanting imagery and captivating language invite you to explore the depths of the human...
