OF GROWTH AND DEATH | Poetry collection

Thirty Eighth Entry | Of Growth

| Leaving him was a kind of death | 

You went back to your house that day

You hit the walls,

You went back to your mother

Smiled

Pretended you were not that broken

Your house made you uneasy

Because it reeked of me

The hallway of my secrets

The kitchen that held my dreams

And your room

filled with my love

Overflowing

You ached for me

and your house screamed my name

I felt you as you died

I felt it somewhere between my heart and my ribs

Buried deep

But I let you die

I felt it

As the breath left your lips

Uttered my name one last time

Through tears and heartache

I promised myself i

Would not wake the dead

So here you lay

I find myself at your headstone

I find myself leaving those sunflowers you used to get me.

| Leaving him was a kind of death |