A sigh escaped from his lips. I could tell he had been dreading this day since before he could remember.
"I'm sorry! I never meant to hurt you."
His voice was still as sweet as honey and his eyes a golden brown. I had forgotten he was the reason I downed wine in the morning, whiskey at night, and vodka in between. All I could remember was how soft his lips were and the feeling of his hands on my hips.
"Sorry won't take back the sleepless nights."
But seeing him didn't make me forget that I vowed to love myself before others.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From A Book I'll Never Write
PoetryI always come up with stories, but I cannot elaborate on them. I can't even finish a two page short story, so I write one page little bitty made up scenarios. I just want to be able to share them with people who appreciate the writing.
