What's Left of Us: The Green Couch Diaries

A poem about memories attached the a green couch and this specific friend's apartment that we always hung out at. Memories attached to it once they moved away from the city.

You said you'd keep the keychain, 

But I have to return the key again, 

To the old landlord, a chapter to explain, 

Yet the memories linger, a grateful refrain. 

  

The drinks we poured on the old green couch, 

Shared moments, laughter, a sacred vouch, 

You grabbed the scotch, heading south, 

Leaving behind echoes of our youth. 

  

It's not about physical leaving, you see, 

But the trust that slipped like sand by the sea. 

Not just moving, but the fear of losing we, 

On this journey where love's mystery we decree. 

  

On that old green couch we used to lounge, 

So cozy, so comfy, moments profound. 

Lost track of time, our souls did astound, 

In that  space, life actually knew no bound. 

  

The fake bricks, the chalkboard wall, 

Where we etched memories, both big and small. 

Drawing hearts, writing names, we stood tall, 

Claiming forever, a promise to recall. 

  

Oh, Christopher's road, where choices freeze, 

The door remains closed, a heart's unease. 

Now you keep the keychain, while I return the keys, 

A symbol of endings, whispering in the breeze. 

Reviews

[nadia dmitri]

I love the way that such daily personal things can become little nuggets of humanity in such beautiful ways. These descriptions of specific things hold such a wide stretching poeticism to them. Amazing job, I love your diction!!