How many shoves will it take to make me realize I'm not a puppy. One day I'll get up and never return. But with each tear I'm angry. Angry that I'm leaving behind that part of me. That strong side that will no doubt scream " Nobody is worth your tears unless they're dead ". Perhaps I'm mourning the death of us.
I remember when I showed you my first milk teeth, you told me " You'll have a pretty smile. Promise me you'll marry a man who will treat you right ". I wish you were around now. I wish you were here to listen. Writing this through the haze of tears, I need to know. What would you have said ?
No comments:
Post a Comment