Photo by Hasan Almasi on Unsplash
what if I quietly disappeared one day just like your counterfeit love
what if I took off all my clothes and neatly folded them, even the gloves,
where we spent all those happy nights before you began screaming at me.
what if I raised my arms in absolution to Sycamore trees climbing eternity,
and then let myself be picked up on the breeze just like dandelion fluff
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. nostalgia and other affairs of the heart).
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.