His parents were the
sweetest -
they said that we looked
so in love;
that they hoped we'd always be
so in love;
that we were quite obviously
so in love.
But even they weren't as sweet as
him
when he opened the car door
especially for me
and drove us
miles away
into the middle of
absolutely nowhere
so that I could cry about life
and my family
and my failings
and my flaws.
And he listened with his arm
fastened
around me, stitching up
my fears
and taping my broken parts
back together
so that things could be
okay.
And he bought me
more coffee
to make me smile.
YOU ARE READING
Drowning | ✓
PoetryWhen Lota fell for him it was like falling off a cliff: drowning was inevitable. Poetry #45 [13.10.14] Romance #453 [14.10.14]