Maybe I can pretend that you aren't gone
Of course, that won't change a thing. Your
Urn on the mantel serves as a daily
Reminder of what once was, and what can
Never be again
I can pretend that nothing has changed, that
Nothing is wrong, but that will not mean that you're not
Gone
Gone like the last frost of winter
Longed for but inevitably disappearing,
Our memories all that remain,
Replaying again and again
Like they can bring
You back
About the Creator
Stephanie Hoogstad
With a BA in English and MSc in Creative Writing, writing is my life. I have edited and ghost written for years with some published stories and poems of my own.
Learn more about me: thewritersscrapbin.com
Support my writing: Patreon
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