walking over his grave.
i felt the chills in every corner of this mall
a different kind of shivers that I never felt before
it's not the frigid mall air, or the storm outside
maybe it's just the memories we simply left behind.
i think i heard our whispers from the past.
how i was unsure that everything between us could last
i think i warned you that i could break you to the core,
i told you, you're too smart to settle for it all.
Yet you left me rest assured that 'less is more'
everytime i took another step, my skin crawls
i can feel your ghost in every inch of this mall.
where we talked how understanding someone takes a toll
i thought it would kill me to be here.
the framework of our shared moments are still clear.
if i admit I've moved on, might as well call myself a knave
but nothing could be more soothing
than walking over his grave.
YOU ARE READING
Wild Cards
Poetry"Wild Cards" is a collection of poems and proses for all of the uncertainties we'll have to gamble through after taking the risk and giving chance to open ourselves to something new.
