I Miss YouA Poem by L.A.I just randomly came up with this. Please tell me what you think.You two used to be so happy together.
After so many years of waiting for her, she came to you. I never saw you as joyful as when you were with her. You loved her with all your heart, and she seemed to have the same affections. But then it came. None of us knew why she did what she did or you did what you did. It went by in a blur. One day, happiness. The next, nothingness. You'd think that she'd blame herself for it all. But no. She took you for granted, and now look what happened. There are memories of you everywhere. Friends at school. Old yearbook pictures. An eerie depression that lingers in the air. Waiting to be broken by your heart-wrenching smile, which is no longer here. Finally, your old and well-worn camouflage jacket, hanging up in my closet. The same jacket you gave to me one day when I was cold and without a sweater. I slept inside it every night since then. You never asked for it back. Now, it was too late. Sure, everyone was sad at first. They got over it. But not me. I stayed up every night, leaning against my bedroom wall and staring at your jacket hanging up in my closet. I remembered all the time we spent together and my hidden feelings for you, deep down. I never cried after the first couple days of this routine. I had shed enough tears; my body was drained. I hardly ate. Hardly drank. Didn't pay much attention in school. Instead, I thought of you and all the ways you used to charm me. The way she let you down, and the way that you let everyone else down. My friends began to worry about me. They didn't get why I was so sad. He was just a guy, wasn't he? No. He wasn't. Above all, she was the one who should know that. But that was the thing. She didn't. My parents wanted to send me to a counselor. I screamed at them and locked myself in my room. For the first time in what seemed like ages, I slid your jacket off the plastic hanger and slipped it around me. I breathed in your sweet scent, and for the millionth time, wished you were still here. I hugged myself with your jacket, pretending that I was holding you close. As if you were within an arm's reach. When reality hit me, I burst into tears and slammed my fist against the wall. I ended up in the ER with a broken wrist and an even more broken heart. What have you done to me? What have I done to myself? With just the few words she said to you, with just the swift motion of that knife, my world had turned upside-down. I reminded myself that I could've saved you. I should have told you how I felt about you. And possibly rescue you from what you were going to do to yourself. But that was the thing. I didn't. There were many times when I thought about ending it all, too, just like you did. Would I leave someone behind? No. Nobody cared about me anymore. They had given up on me long ago. So many phone calls and e-mails unreturned. What was the point? But there was still something stopping me from doing what you did. From making your same mistake. If it was even such a mistake at all. After that one day, I never laid a finger on your coat. I wanted to keep it the way it was. It was the last thing of you I had left. Or so I thought. Until I visited you with a pot of fresh flowers and a torn heart. I pressed my face against the cold stone marble where somewhere, you were underneath. I remember that day very clearly. It was a chilly mid-October Sunday. I didn't bring a jacket or even dare think of putting yours on. It turned out I didn't need anything. Because, kneeling there beside you, I felt an odd warmness surround me. Your scent flooded my nostrils. It was alarming and overwhelming. I looked down at your name so carefully carved into that smooth slab. I traced it with my finger. Then, with no warning or anything, a drop fell onto the indent in Q. I felt more stream down my face. I didn't try to control them, or make them stop. For once, I let them flow. And, in a way, it felt kind of nice. Somehow. Before I stood up to leave you until next week, I whispered my parting words into the grave where you lay. "I miss you." © 2010 L.A.Featured ReviewReviews
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StatsAuthorL.A.ILAboutHopefully a better person than I used to be. I don't write nearly as often as I should, but I'll try to post when I can. UPDATE: A lot of this writing is now outdated. Proceed at your own risk.. more..Writing
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