Another day,
one more mile,
one step at a time,
I enter the wide chapel
with only my torn veil
shadowing my tears.
I keep glancing up,
staring straight beyond the steps
just past where he now rest.
I started getting the shakes
the night he slipped through
my weak fingers.
I can still hear his lowered tone,
his voice, calling for a smile,
a hug, even a kiss.
I would worry about his nights
under the falling bombs like stars;
beauty, but no magic.
Pretend I knew we would
stare deep with each other once again;
for the first time.
The lingering reality crept its
way down; mustering up
my abandoned guilt for letting
him join, leave, for not
stopping him that early morning.
Now, I walk down the aisle,
not to marry my beloved, but
to rest his soul, along with the others.
Today is his funeral,
but to me; it is still our wedding day.
YOU ARE READING
Awkward, Unrequited, Superficial, Toxic, Real Love.
PoesíaLove is messy and beautiful. I have been writing poems since I was a teenager. It was my escape. It was and still is a refuge. My 20's are behind me. This book is a small collection of love-related poems that encompass pretty much most of my feeling...
