the room is flooded with the smell of coffee
the sun sending beams of light through the cutains to dance across the mirror that you sit across dantily
there you sit at the vanity painting your face
aesthetically
it's a scene that shouts early morning and has
a welcomed familiarity
as the sun finally raises past the horizan
she leaves the room and the slumbering
"lover" on the bed with the intent of
never returning
YOU ARE READING
heartbreak hotel [reopened]
PoesíaI don't want you to forget me. I don't want you to forget me. I don't want you to forget me. But you did.