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SequoiaGrows

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

5 poems·Since November 2017
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Break up

November 19, 2017

No, you will never know

how many tears can fill this hole

between you and me.

 

I can stack them into rain

and they would still burn

as a July heatwave

of the land we come from.

 

I couldn't run and couldn't ignore,

once I stood awed of your galore.

I blinked, it was all gone-

no shine, no rise, only a bore.

 

You became dust of your own shore.

 

The waves feed you

if you follow tides.

Suppressed was that ego,

no boats were in sights.

 

Ahoi, my sailor, I said!

 

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