Now you’re gone
Now I’m down
Now this stings
Can’t forget
Can’t let go
Can’t move past
Was it real?
Was it love?
Was it me?
About the Creator
Tina D. Lopez
I have a lot of silly things (some dark things) inside my head, so I write them down. Sometimes they turn into poems.
My book Love Ain’t No Friend of Mine is available on Amazon. https://a.co/d/6JYBmLH
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More stories from Tina D. Lopez and writers in Poets and other communities.
December 8, 1980
When I was six or seven, my stepdad came into my life, and I remember thinking he knew everything. He could befriend anybody, anywhere. In grocery stores, he chatted with strangers over cuts of meat; at gas stations, he bonded with people pumping fuel over how the smell of gasoline was disgusting and yet enjoyable. In restaurants, he took an interest in waiters’ lives—like Steve, whose father was dying of cancer. When Steve’s dad died, my new dad attended the funeral.
By Tina D. LopezExclusive • 8 days ago
Whiskey At Dusk
Guess the whiskey was more important to you in the end, wasn’t it? It was more than the well-being of your friends; more vital than showing up to the places you promised you would and could come to; more critical of a matter than fulfilling your damn responsibilities and getting the press off your back.
By Snarky Lisa5 days ago in Humans
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