One last warm hug for the road
Two hard kisses before we jump off this sinking boat
Three times you repeated: we'll see each other again, we'll meet soon, see you during Christmas
For when I arrive in London, it's you I'll run to first
Finally you texted me and said, there's already someone else, sleeping in your bed.
Six years do you resent me, if not why did you scheme instead of letting it all be?
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
ŞiirA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
