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).
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Comments (2)
Great job what a powerful piece
🙁🙁❤️. Beautiful and so achingly sad.