Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2016
I grew up thinking that on the west coast, things would be better.
I spent my whole life on the east, and not that it was bad, but it could be better.
The whole summer seems like a dream now.
I’m not happy that it’s how it ended, but at least it happened, you know?

Something wasn't right when he left, I could feel it.
I guess that’s why I was so upset, so irrationally upset.
I knew that things would be different when he came back, and I was right.
I’m not used to being right about things like that, and I’d prefer if I weren't from now on.

There were still fun aspects even though I could tell something was off.
Those mountains were beautiful,
And that was the best mimosa I think I’ve ever had.
I guess that’s what helped me believe that things on the west coast would be better.

It was late and there was a lot of wine, good, California wine.
And then the words came tumbling out of my mouth.
And then the words came tumbling out of his mouth.
And they weren't the same words.

Everything else on that trip is a blur.
Not melting into a wet, sloppy, puddle of tears wasn't easy,
But I guess I got them all out before he even left, when I was upset.
The Golden Gate Bridge is beautiful from the top of a mountain after dark.
Written by
Emily Welsh
222
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems