Life has become a collection of used-tos,
the emptiness of the once upon a time
collecting dust on the mantle of my heart.
A friend I used to know, stolen by marriage.
The paths I used to walk, rain or shine or snow.
Community where, for a time, I belonged;
all snatched away by the changing of seasons.
The face I used to know, blinking sullenly
from the dusty mirror. The lines that started
to rest, proof that joy once settled on my face.
In the silence, my heart beats the dirge rhythm.
used-to
used-to
used-to
About the Creator
Chloë J.
Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
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Comments (3)
Gripping poetic thoughts, really sleek use of enjambment too.
We may have used-tos but we also have right now. We can make new memories. ❤️ Love this poem. It’s so real.
The used-to's have become have-to and all the fun has been sucked out of them! Upon finishing your piece my mind was awash with all my used-to's, I'm glad of them and your piece has done it's job! Thank you 😊