Warm Comfort of Ice Cream

What could’ve happened if we said something then?

Two hearts broken
Two kinds of ice cream
Mine was vanilla, plainest it can be
Yours was matcha green, how bittersweet
Across from me, your eyes looked dull
Those two next to us had no clue, none at all
“I hate them” you say to me simply
“I hate them too”, a spoonful of bittersweet
Our words threw daggers at lovers hearts
And we wished for someone to hold
All the while sitting across from each other
That fall afternoon suddenly became cold
Swallowing the tension with every bite
Wondering how different it would be
Had we met at a different time
Maybe we’d be like Those Two with sprinkles and Oreos
Maybe on separate tables, eating our comforts alone
You’ll never know about this
You’ll never know how I died
You said you saw pain and suffering in our future
Well, guess what?
You were right.

Author's Note

I wrote letters to him. This is my attempt at making them less pathetic and more poetic. Please do leave your thoughts!

Reviews

[DecentlyOkayWriter]

All the while sitting across from each other
That fall afternoon suddenly became cold
. . .
(You don't mind if I take this part, do you?)

Oh, I've already stumbled upon one of your writes again- and I'm glad. The bitter sweetness of sharing something awful between someone you know. I've had conversations with my friends like this- mumbling something about a girl who is better than we could be, a sharp word about the two lovers who seem much too fond of each other, that remind us of what we lost, or we can't have.

There's nothing pathetic about the tragic poet.

Of course, keep writing! 🎉