tear up for no good reason
you're singing christmas songs
and your voice breaks
eyes watering as you sneeze
tear up the hallways
with your muddy boots
that you personally
have never worn before
tear up those papers
the ones with all those poems
you wrote for all of them
grate them alongside the provolone
tear up at the thought
that you'll lose them all
to time and to circumstance
and to the imminence of splitting ways
tear up when you wonder
if they cared or if they worried
if it was "we" as a collective
or if it was just you.
YOU ARE READING
melted
Poetry❝the present was the present, and we didn't even know it.❞ dedicated to kjh and wb highest ranking: #27 in poetry
