That time he stopped believing
that our love was real instead of some fairy-tale.
That was also the first time he had ever gotten into a fight,
and it was in a dark room of all places.
I believed and I had faith;
but it all came burning down in the flames of envy,
jealous of the woman that I was becoming,
scared of the change that has happened.
Of all places the dark room is where I kept all of our memories,
pictures of who we were and who we were becoming;
but he had to set that room in flames.
I could never go back in there ever again,
my feelings they won't ever be the same –
before that fight
that night.
Before the slamming screen doors,
broken glass on the floor,
tears streaming down my face,
and standing in the wrong place.
Our memories were ruined by one serious fight,
I grabbed the keys and got out of sight.
When he stopped believing,
I stopped breathing...
YOU ARE READING
In A World Lost to Poetry
Poetry"Poetry keeps me sane" said the little songwriter who grew up to be a writer. ~Rebecca Lynn
