dear oliver,
you woke up the other day,
according to the doctors.
they still won’t let me
near you. i don’t understand
why, it’s not like i’ll do
anything wrong from all
of the mistakes i’ve already
made.
they let rose in. rose.
why her but not me, oliver?
she came out with tears
in her eyes. she saw me,
standing in the corner,
my head leaning back,
i let a breath out.
i knew she had news.
“hey,” she started, wiping
away a tear, letting her sleeve
soak up the sorrow.
“hi.”
“just...he just needs some
time alone, okay? he’s fine.
he just needs to recollect
his thoughts, that’s all.” she
gave a weak smile and
placed a pale hand on
my shoulder, giving it
a light squeeze.
“why are you crying?”
“he’s not who i thought
he was.” she just shrugged.
“call me if you ever need
anything, okay?”
and she disappeared,
leaving a trail of watery
thorns behind.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
