Our love was born when most things die,
Under a cool November sky;
We never stood more than a chance
To develop our fool’s romance.

Yet it happened for a time,
Like any other rhyme;
We shared summer skittles
Filled with fits of giggles
That led to long nights
under covers tight
And soft mornings
Met with sweet mourning.

There was pure passion
With days in high fashion.
There were solemn Sundays,
with candles ablaze,
hoping not to miss
The next slow kiss.

There was you.
There was me.
There was everything
We wanted it to be.

But in a moment everything ended,
Texts were sent and fences untended.
My muse moved back home.
And I was left alone.

Now, a million years later,
it doesn’t feel that long ago.
Who was I to leave her?
What little did I know.

None of this was ever real –
It’s just some thoughts I feel.
A collection of ways
to fill my parting days.

Please, bid me adieu,
I need to get over you.


Welcome to the empty recesses of my mind! I'm a recent college graduate realizing a Creative Writing degree was a bad idea. Give me a pity like. Or you could check out the about sections (on the front page and about this author page) on my blog to learn a little more about me. Whatever. https://thebohemianrockstarpresents.wordpress.com/

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