The Day You Died

October 17, 2016

The Day You Died

I scrubbed your prints

from my walls

and got rid of your dust

because it does no good

mingling with mine anyways

and as for your photo

in the back of my wallet

it’s now nothing more

than I ever was

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.