To the girl who will come after me.
You can try using my chapstick, but you still won't satiate his longing for my taste. You can wear my skin and steal my smile, but I'd still be there when he closes his eyes. You can try writing him poetry, but my words will forever remain etched on his skin like a stubborn tattoo.
Let's face it.
All you're going to be, is my shadow.
A replacement.
A new vessel to store in the love
I don't want anymore.
C❤️
YOU ARE READING
The Writer and Her Twilight
PoetryA prose and poetry collection where twilight becomes your blanket to hide that you cry.