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Ric 16h
She could've stayed, and I would've loved her for a lifetime.

She could've let herself be loved, and I would've shown her what that means.

She could've let herself wake beside me on Sundays, and I would've kept making her pancakes.

She could've let herself believe she was enough, and I would've reminded her, every day, that she was.

She could've let herself be my Jessica Rabbit, and I would've made her laugh like Roger every day.

She could’ve let herself slow dance with me in the bedroom, and I would’ve held her through every quiet night.

She could've stayed, and I would’ve kept planning picnic dates.

She could've stayed, and I would've written her poems until my hands gave out.

She could've stayed, and I would've loved her, even when she couldn't love herself.

She could've stayed, and I would've made every birthday feel like magic.

She could've stayed, but she didn't. Now all my "would've's are just echoes in the hallway she left me in


She could've stayed....
She could've stayed, and I would’ve loved her until my heart gave out. Until my lungs stopped breathing. Until my brain stopped thinking.
Malak S May 2018
The steps I take away from you seem deeper than the shallow ones towards you.
I’ve almost lost my senses as I resided beside you, becoming one with the chair
Controlled and made to feel a certain type of way only to be neglected whenever my use was no longer needed
Disposable
I was always disposable
And what does that say of the way I love?
That it is not an ocean that hugs its shores, but one that chews and spits out remnants
I can’t seem to recall the memories of when I was anything, but broken
I have melded into the shards and at time’s, when I move, they stab and wound me from inside out.
My skin has been marked by red patches and in some artistic, poetic way, you may say that these patches are the marks of a warrior, but I say they’re marks of a fighter who longer has enough fight in her
If I decide to give up, would they all yell out in objection,
Or help me get there faster?
I can’t write anything I’m proud of, so I’ll share whatever I come up with till I’m proud and happy with something
Robin Goodfellow Jan 2017
30
Weeping o'er the dark
Black oceans caress the pain,
of a loved one lost
sushma madappa Apr 2016
I often wonder if I would ever run into you.
If I do, how would it play out?
So, I imagine a scenario where Iam shopping at a supermarket,  walking down the aisle,  pushing my cart,
looking for some mundane little thing and there you will be,
next to the cereal aisle, holding your favorite brand of cereal.

What would we do?
Will one of us lean in for a hug,
smile awkwardly at each other or
behave like strangers?
Would we exchange numbers,
With a promise to catch up soon or do
the most natural thing in the world-
go to the nearest cafe or pub and
have coffee or a drink or two together.
Share our stories, wish each other well and part as friends.
I hope that's what we'd do.

I would love to walk down that aisle with you.
I look for you in every supermarket in the world, I step into.
Janhavi K Feb 2016
He was the castaway thrown ashore, hurt and injured,
She was the island that nurtured him till he was cured,
He signaled an approaching ship to take him away,
While she waited for the waves to bring someone who'd, for once, stay.
Megan Wilcox Dec 2015
It's 11:56 and I should be asleep
But my mind is wandering
in a far away place
Past memories of my late grandmother
in her final days...
I couldn't continue....

— The End —