being out here
reminds me of you.
and the only thing i can this is:
why this moment surfaces: because the memories of watching the fish, and eating out at the picnic tables, are happy, actually genuinely happy, exploring beyond the bridge.
the way the fish circle around the food, wondering who is daring enough to take a shot.
hoping one of these days you'll come home to me,
and be all better, and hold me as i cry, soothing me.
promising me you won't leave
and all i can do is try and convince myself not to cry, because i count the days in between which i have heard from you last.
yet as the sun rises i can't help but let a few tears slip.
YOU ARE READING
𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝
Poetry𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ♡
