Today was your birthday
And all I wanted to do was stay in bed and not talk to anyone.
But I had to get up and go to work.
I told myself I would be okay.
But I'm not.
How can I be okay
when today would have been
your 18th birthday.
This was supposed to be
the day you ran
and never looked back.
Today was when
the cuts and bruises
your dad had left
Were finally going to heal.
Today was The day you were
supposed to look at me and say,
"CeCe, I'm finally free!"
About a week ago I planned out,
in my head,
what we would do together
And it was beautiful.
We would go somewhere safe
and plan everything
you would do for yourself.
You would find a job,
get an apartment,
go to college here in town
Then go off with me
when I graduated high school.
You would study philosophy
and I would study psychology.
We will finish around the same time and then find a place together.
All of this can't happen
Because I let you slip
right through my fingers.
I took my eyes off of you
for a split second
and you were gone.
Drowning in pills
And I wasn't there to give you CPR.
I wasn't there when you needed me most and now you'll never know
what true freedom feels like.
This is the worst birthday ever
and its not even mine.
-(cm)
YOU ARE READING
Paper Cut Poems
RandomThe poems I write. They are mix-matched like regular poetry books. Like "The collection of Edgar Alan Poe" or Jack Frost. So I guess you could say it's "The Collection of CeCe Metcalf" Hope you enjoy.
