Year 1957. London, England.
The streets of London are consumed with grey smog.
Grey smoke fills the air.
London Bridge is grey,
As is the murky water that lies below.
My world is grey in your absence.
We come from different worlds.
I came from wealth,
You came from poverty.
I never saw you for what you lack.
I saw you for who you are.
My love for you was never enough.
My family forbade me from seeing you.
In distress, I jumped from London Bridge and fell to my death.
Upon hearing the news of my death,
You jumped in front of a train to join me.
Year 2023. Toronto, Canada.
You finally joined me.
We met again in the east end of Toronto.
Nothing has changed since 1957.
What we have is still forbidden.
My world is still so grey in your absence.
The pain is so much, I feel myself drowning still.
I forget to breathe most of the time.
I feel as though I am sinking again.
When I am feeling hurt, I walk to the lake and I wish that the waves could take me again.
I fantasize about the waves engulfing my body and consuming me.
Do you know that? Do you care?
About the Creator
Emily Viggiani
๐๏ธ108
๐ฌ๐ง๐ฎ๐น
My third eye is open. I have a white aura. I see things sometimes (I can see angels and demons).
I write poems because I feel my feelings very deeply.
Keep reading
More stories from Emily Viggiani and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (3)
So lovely ๐
The twisted lines of fate intersecting...interesting concept in your poem.
Oh such a long time. Can't believe my eyes ๐.