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To those Who are Gone

sad poem

By Khalida ParveenPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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To those Who are Gone
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

I keep writing about those who are gone.

Keep purging guilt in ink.

Slowly suffocating in lungs that fill

like water balloons we threw at summer camp.

That day we got lost in the woods

plucking gooseberries straight from the bush.

Sour bitter droplets of candy to hoard.

Found within an hour sticky hands

thorn pricked fingers bleeding guiltily.

That one afternoon I tasted freedom

and knew it wasn't for me.

I should be writing about the one still here.

She didn't yell when I called her crying

homesick barely twenty miles from town.

Years later, leaving felt like escape to a new world.

She didn't discourage me from running.

Didn't mock me when I realized loneliness

is a shadow you can't peel away.

She didn't say I told you so

when anxiety and rage hunted me down.

She just waited patiently.

Forgave me all the missing years

and held me once again.

sad poetry
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