july
hudson, ny
-
her
i did my laundry
that night.
i spent all of it
talking to you and
wishing i could stay there
just as engulfed in
conversation
for the rest of my life.
and it's funny
how i once thought
i'd figured out
how to feel about it.
love became a concept
i finally understood,
something easy.
with him it was sweet
like candy
and like floating
on clouds.
it didn't have to be
this complex thing.
then all of a sudden
i'm with you
and we banter like kids
bullying each other
and i can feel
your hazel eyes
locking onto me
like i'm the best view
you've ever gotten to see.
it's bittersweet
like salt scattered
into the wound
and it hurts so hard
when i cry,
my breathing gets bad
and i lose it.
what good was love
to even begin with?
what good was it
to even try?
and maybe it's the whiskey
that's brewing in my veins
as we're talking
or the way that you're
so sweet to me;
but i'm over him
in a matter of seconds
and onto you
like i've known you
for years.
YOU ARE READING
how to heal
Short Storya short story / set of poetry about healing and letting time mend you that is based upon real events but not entirely true (:
