quiet as I'm coming home
just me, all alone
the tv is turned off
no actors welcoming me
an empty pan on the stove
waiting for food to be prepared
no one on the couch
only cold pillows
the bedroom deserted
the closet emptied out
then, on the dinner table
a single note, the only sign of life
I'm sorry,
but I tried
YOU ARE READING
What I've Never Told You ✔
Poetry❝why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it?❞ ➢ a collection of poetry ∙ ∙ ∙ I stopped writing. There was no real reason for it, but for some reason, I just did. No words on paper anymore, no way to let my thoughts out. I kept eve...
