someday
will you walk into
my room
lie on my bed and
stare at the ceiling i stare at
every night
smell the
mishmash of
stale perfumes
on my clothing
play my guitars
read my books
touch my walls
clutch the afghans
i made in your
tight fists
and
cry?
or will you think
that somebody
made a mistake
and that mistake
wasn't me
leaving
but was you
staying?
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
someday
will you walk into
my room
lie on my bed and
stare at the ceiling i stare at
every night
smell the
mishmash of
stale perfumes
on my clothing
play my guitars
read my books
touch my walls
clutch the afghans
i made in your
tight fists
and
cry?
or will you think
that somebody
made a mistake
and that mistake
wasn't me
leaving
but was you
staying?
Copyright 5/14/16 by B. E. McComb