On friday nights you paint me a picture of our infinite future,
Filled with warm hugs and movies and forevers.
On saturday mornings,
You lay a kiss in my hair and hum in the kitchen,
But the occasional sighs fill the air.
By night, you seem detached and I keep trying to meet your eyes,keep trying to grab your attention so much like a neglected child,
But, your eyes,they still follow the passerbys on the street outside my window.
On sunday mornings,you are gone,
Leaving not a trace behind and it is as if you were never here,you were just a beautiful fantasy that evaporated into my subconscious.
I go through the day with my eyes shut tightly,thinking if I tried hard enough, I would be able to hear your footsteps on the stairs.
At night, I sleep with the door unlocked and the porch light on, just incase you decide you miss me.
YOU ARE READING
All For You.
Poetry*First Place Winner in Poetry - The Quill Awards* ❝All the tears, All the sleepless nights. All the 2 a.m. poetry, All the brilliant lights. All the second guessing, All the wrongs and rights. It is all for ...
