[I wonder when the day will come]
I wonder when the day will come
that I stop writing to you and start writing about you.
When will we drift so far apart
that you never read my words again
and we are just two lost satellites floating in space?
You will age without me, and I will decay alone.
I will write about you instead of to you
and say:
He could read the parts of me that I could only see with my glasses on.
His favorite color was green, and foliage grew from the pools of his eyes.
He slept on his stomach, face turned away, so that I could not reach his heart.
I loved him in words, and he loved me in ways I still have not discovered.
YOU ARE READING
Moments Belonging to No One: A National Poetry Month Chapbook
PoetryApril is National Poetry Month, and I have decided, in honor of the month, to write 30 poems for each of the 30 days. A lot happened in my life throughout this month. Mostly what I wrote about was heartache, breakups, exhaustion, and the way life mo...
