It's two am,
You're still here.
Your voice is still here,
Your scent is still here,
Your touch is still here.
Yet you left fourteen hours ago.
You're not something so easily forgotten. You're not someone that can just be replaced in my memory by some other miniscule event.
When I close my eyes, you're still there. I can see you clear as day. As if I were seeing you for the first time. Every little thing about you stuck in a perfect picture. Stored in the large unorganized file cabinet that is my memory.
It's two am. I saw you fourteen hours ago and yet it feels like it's been a lonely fourteen years. A cold fourteen years. It's alright. The fire in your eyes keeps me warm.
I could write essays. Papers after papers after papers about all the little things about you. The little things I love. The little things I cherish.
Even the annoyances. I'd write those too. The facts I know to be nothing but sorrow.
I'll write the hundreds of possibilities for us. The good, the great, the grand outcomes. The haunting, the harming, the hateful ones too.
I'm not sure what of our ending. All I know is that your departure will come much too soon. Sooner than we both wish.
I fear our ending will be as it has always been.
Tragic.
YOU ARE READING
Just Another Day (A Book Of Poems)
PoetryThis is a book of poems. All of these poems are based off of things I have gone through in my life. Not necessarily in chronological order if you're wondering. So yeah, I'd love to share some of my life story with you guys. I hope you like it. *WARN...
