Let in the LightA Poem by Gabrielle"It's dead," I remind myself. He shot it with the gun I forced into his hand.
"It's dead," I remind myself.
He shot it with the gun I forced into his hand. His words ring through my brain, reeling me back in. Into the story, the saga, as if this might just be one more chapter in our book of love. But really my attention is like the defribillator keeping its pulse alive when all that's left is its shell. I beg for closure- from myself, from him, from handsome strangers. But she is sneaky and elusive, showing up to some parties and evading others. Disappearing without a note or a trace. I remember she was here, but can't remember her leaving. I prune the leaves from the plants, mourning each fallen leaf as I remember the life I imagined for it. How it would soak in the sun of our living room, provide a jungle for young imaginations and a responsibility to teenage years. Instead it lies dead in my hands. I fear what the dying leaves foreshadow. But I see buds sprouting and flowers blossoming. So I pour the water in and open the shades to let in the light.
© 2017 GabrielleAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on January 26, 2017 Last Updated on January 26, 2017 Tags: relationship, breakup, poetry |