Poets logo

Sundays

I came home to you every day and found new things to explore with you.

By Rena LuxxePublished 5 years ago 1 min read
Like

I don't like that there's no mail on Sundays.

Every day you go to your mailbox

Expecting to find magazines, letters, and everything in between.

But on Sundays, you forget that it's Sunday.

You go to your mailbox,

Expecting to find a bill or a birthday card.

But you find nothing.

Just like you.

I came home to you every day

And found new things to explore with you.

Then one day I came home to find nothing.

I was empty, like a mailbox on Sunday.

Now every day is like Sunday for me.

I forget that you're gone and still expect to find you waiting for me at home.

I find nothing.

I receive nothing from you.

Not even a bill or a birthday card.

heartbreak
Like

About the Creator

Rena Luxxe

I'm a senior in college and like to talk about love, sex, ghosts, and really anything else.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.