If strawberries had memories, they’d only dream of cookie crumbs.
If strawberries could tell stories, they’d weep until forever’s undone
What is a poet to do?
When you tell her love poetry out of the blue,
Not a bedtime story, you were a wish come true.
Screaming the Lord’s name echoed on call,
Cheeks flushed, bound to ache
Now, it’s only memory.
Close misty eyes in the middle of the night,
Your lips are locked into mine.
The aftertaste of watermelon lingers just right.
I pull away, smiling, but tears fall downside.
“I miss you more than I can put into words.”
I blink through the blur, but you’re gone.
Your friend’s car, a time capsule of us,
Etching our ghosts into metal and dust.
We stopped on the roadside, your head on my lap,
The night held its breath, so did I.
"What’s it like to hold your hand? To lock our lips one last time?"
Get up. Tell me it’s time.
It killed me endlessly.
August 10th our world in bloom,
Held me tight, told me it’s all right,
Time stood still, you kissed me through the night.
February 13th love’s quiet death, now Heather’s day, his hand in hers instead.
You walked away, stole my breath.
I sit heartbroken, waiting for the year to end
As my tears finally dry, October storm hits.
The 20th it’s our crime, a date I should celebrate
But my heart won’t move, it only rewinds.
She walks my happy ever after,
While I live a once upon a nightmare.
By: Zoulaikha