There was someone,
someone who I loved,
someone who I cherished,
And still they stand at my side.
I tried so hard to fix everything,
to make the rooms clean,
to make the days bright,
but I think I messed up
somewhere along the way.
Maybe I didn't spend enough time with him
Maybe I forgot to make his closet neat
Maybe I hurt him
Maybe I forgot something
Maybe I looked at another for too long
Maybe
Maybe
So as I stand here,
with my arm clutched to my side,
I feel the shattered bones
and I cry.
I know it was my fault.
I know I should have been better.
But for just a moment,
a single moment,
when I looked at him with his out-stretched hands,
I felt a wither of fear towards the one I loved
and I hated myself for it.
And now all I can do
is cry
and try to do better next time.
YOU ARE READING
Based
Short StoryEvery picture tells a story, And every story paints a picture, So why can I not use a picture to tell a story? I do not own any of these pictures. All works in this book are fiction. (Please let me know if you would like me to tag anyt...
