Then, Now, You, Me

You spoke first,

my heart skipping a beat.

I replied,

scared that I wouldn't be able to form the right words.

 

Our last words haunt me,

so formal and that capable of being said between strangers.

We used to be anything but strangers,

but now we are nothing more.

 

Your picture floats off my mirror landing in the trash,

a fitting ending to the tale that was ours.

 

Now,

it's time to create my story that doesn't revolve around you.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741