The time will never come,
where I greet myself at my door,
in my mirror,
with a smile and a welcome.
Because the smile is fake,
the welcome is too hearty,
almost sickeningly sweet.
I inwardly cringe as I laugh, a cheery, false tone.
I can’t give my heart back; I don’t have one
not anymore.
But there was a time,
where everything was real.
So I will sit down
and remember those times.
Those times where my grins were genuine,
the times when I still enjoyed talking,
the times when I was still alive.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
The time will never come,
where I greet myself at my door,
in my mirror,
with a smile and a welcome.
Because the smile is fake,
the welcome is too hearty,
almost sickeningly sweet.
I inwardly cringe as I laugh, a cheery, false tone.
I can’t give my heart back; I don’t have one
not anymore.
But there was a time,
where everything was real.
So I will sit down
and remember those times.
Those times where my grins were genuine,
the times when I still enjoyed talking,
the times when I was still alive.
Alternate ending: "The times when I was still me"
ahhhhh I ended up submitting something I wrote for an English assignment because I liked the theme so much
-This is kind of similar to Derek Walcott's "Love After Love" because part of the assignment was to imitate a poem of your choosing out of all the one's we've read and that's the one I chose heh