18/F/still at the restaurant sometimes, i write because it brings me comfort. mostly, i write because i can't trust my mind to remember the way it used to feel 14 followers / 906 words
the autumn chill that picks me up you loved the amber skies so much long limbs and frozen swims you'd always go past where our feet could touch and i'd complain the whole way there the car ride back and up the stairs i should have asked you questions i should have asked you how to be asked you to write it down for me should've kept every grocery store receipt cause every scrap of you would be taken from me watched as you signed your name marjorie all your closets of backlogged dreams and how you left them all to me
i'm in the wake of a storm i didn't even know happened but suddenly i walk outside and there is a sea of fragmented mirror where there were once smooth stone paths and my favorite tree lies uprooted on it's side like a wounded animal it's wooden limbs torn and the sky pities me wordlessly almost as if it knows i will be the only one on my hands and knees putting time back together because yesterday was last year and the spaces between the words grow farther and farther apart until i am straining to hear sounds that would've once made me deaf even though the volume is turned all the way up.
take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die i don't belong and my beloved neither do you those windemere peaks look like the perfect place to cry i'm setting off but not without my muse no not without you