Wasted Leftovers

Three meals in one day ordered to our door,

naked in bedsheets, mattress on the floor,

ignoring our phones, no time for our friends,

as if we knew we were going to end.

His sweat and mine, found the meaning of life,

days lost in sin, how can wrong feel just right?

waiting for the day he’d make me his wife,

in all of my darkness, he saw my light.

Needed silence and space, left us to grow,

I ran away first, and he let me go,

now leftovers are as wasted as me,

here turning regret into poetry.

Love lives in the secrets I’ll never tell,

if he’s not in heaven, I’m choosing hell.