I took a sip of tea from my mug
Steam in my face, almost burning my nose
Staring down at the bag sticking to the side of my almost empty mug
It was easier to stare down into my mug than it was to look into your eyes
I could feel the goodbye coming, "it isn't you it's me"
Ill never know why you wanted to break my heart in such a public place
Why you felt like destroying me in front of an audience of unfamiliar eyes
I looked up at you as you grabbed my hand
"we can't do this anymore, we're struggling to hang on"
I quickly pulled my hand away, I no long want your touch
"I'm tired of picking up your pieces it's tiring"
I could feel the pressure growing in my chest.
Everything was moving so quickly my head began to spin.
You picked up your jacket as you stood up
"Goodbye." You turned your back and walked away
I looked back down into my mug, the tea was gone. Just like you.
YOU ARE READING
gas station flowers
Poesiacoming of age poetry by a queer young adult writer. navigating relationships and the coming out process. peak inside the mind of a young woman with a mental illness.
