I Have More Than A Perfect Figure

I Stand Here

I stand here within the stillness of the night with nothing but a street light keeping me company.

The clouds grieve with me as they cry softly.

I gaze out as I watch you trek onwards, away from my hand and into the empty streets before you.

This is what I wanted, right?

Was it freedom I was seeking? Or was it perhaps too much to bear having known you were so in love with me?

Was it the many kind words you spoke that rattled the cage around my heavily guarded heart?

Did I panic?

Was it me being rash and possibly wreaking what could have been beautiful?

I stand here, the tears of the clouds soaking into my hair and cooling my skin.

The hair that you once brushed with your fingers and the skin you once trailed your fingertips along like a map.

My breath fogging with the quivering air that escapes past my lips.

My throat finally letting it's grip around my whimpers go as I sob.

I close my sore and tired eyes in search of relief from the tears that soon follow.

Is it supposed to hurt when you make the right decision? Or have I made a horrible mistake?

Just as you did long ago.

I stand here letting the rain fall heavy on my clothes, I feel so weighted.

I open my troubled eyes as I look to where you once stood.

The sorrow builds up before I gulp it down.

When I turn my back, this shall be forgotten.

You, me and the sloshing of my steps as I walk away from this, from us.

That street is where we both once stood but from those moments is also where we created our new beginnings.