"I don't believe in that stuff." "Well I do." You were the perfect example of what I call, "angelic."
Your macular degeneration was the reaper of what could've been.
Nothing more than a lock of eyes and you had my attention,
Wait, attention? No, you had me. All of me.
The way you said my name.
Every part of my inner being wanted you.
My mind was programmed to crave your laugh.
You were my breakfast every morning for weeks, feeding me with energy.
The hairs on my neck would raise higher the closer to me you stood.
You told me that you will never die.
But to me,
You have.
Yet your pungent demeanor still lingers.
If I could travel time the way you do,
I would take it back.
And maybe you too.
I had only misplaced my keys and used you as a spare.
About the Creator
Nonnah Fain
My muse is mental health. I get a high off of writing. I write about everything, we are all walking stories.
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