It’s that time of the year again-
I feel lost.
With hesitation on my wrists my lips begin to defrost.
July 4th.
The anniversary of when you left me.
Three years later and I still miss you dearly.
Took me too long to realize I was never your love-
It was just my turn.
And just like digging a grave for my favorite tree,
It might’ve been useless but i needed it.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 2:58 AM UTC
It’s that time of the year again-
I feel lost.
With hesitation on my wrists my lips begin to defrost.
July 4th.
The anniversary of when you left me.
Three years later and I still miss you dearly.
Took me too long to realize I was never your love-
It was just my turn.
And just like digging a grave for my favorite tree,
It might’ve been useless but i needed it.
Request permission to use this poem