Nestled purring
from the trace of my touch
within partial slumber,
but she knew that
she wasn't dreaming;
the blanket was her cloud
in the Dreamland from
scattered memory, for
she was comforted,
let alone by the kiss
of my warm fingertips
and quivering lips;
like her gentle sleep,
my time here is to end.
If I could bring her into my dream,
I would...
But I'm leaving someday;
say "Goodbye" to your little girl,
Say "Goodbye"
since I can't go back;
once the door closes, there's no
turning back...
I won't be back.
I won't return
to the emptiness
that should've been
the love from a family,
the nurturing of two parents...
She'll be sadder
in a ball of her slumber,
understanding how it feels
to lose the one that got away;
she'll understand how my body reacted
with a piece missing
and my soul having been mutated
for a vast amount of time.
But I nurtured her as I wasn't,
gave her what was deprived, yet
I must be off
and her mourning might kill her
despite my forever
but I still walk.
YOU ARE READING
indoors.
PoetryWhat's a college junior to do when her young adulthood has been robbed of a rainbow of events, support, more than one tight bond, and life lessons? The birth of this collection of poetry.
