Leaving as in breaking.
Leaving as in hopping.
Trying to forget,
Trying to erase him,
Trying to unmake,
All the feelings he had awoken in me.
This love,
This pain,
These empty hands,
This empty stare,
These tears,
These burned poems,
And forgotten promises,
The fact that he was the one I'd call
When I'm having panic attacks,
The fact that I stare at his number when I'm out of breath.
The fact that he promised it will all be alright.
The fact that nothing is alright without him.
I never wanted him to be a lover,
He left, and I loved the friend he took away from me.
YOU ARE READING
My loved ones; a journey.
Poëzie“Perhaps one did not want to be loved, as much as to be understood” George Orwell.
