Some days
I miss our late night games of solitaire
Others I find myself missing
Your weekly phone calls
And the rusty french
That you insisted on using wrong
But mostly I miss those
Warm chocolate eyes
That saw right through me
And reminded me to love
Even when it hurt
Those wise words
That never made much sense
At the time
But later meant more than
I thought you had understood
And that
Little mischievous smile
That lit up the room
And saved me from the dark
But most of all
I just miss you
And those hugs
That felt like home
I'm sorry I took
All those little things for granted
While you were alive
YOU ARE READING
With Broken Wings (2013)
Poetry"Take these broken wings and learn to fly again." This is my own personal story of overcoming my demons and my grief. I define my recovery. ι'ℓℓ вє уσυя ѕнσυℓ∂єя тσ cяу ση, уσυя яσcк ωнєη уσυ'яє ησт ѕтяσηg ι'ℓℓ вє уσυя нєαят ωнєη ιт'ѕ вяσкєη, му α...
