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Kneeling on the floor 
Open window parallel to my wounds
It’s past 9pm on a Sunday night,
The rain humours my mood
What happened to all of the
lazy afternoons
we used to waste in each other’s arms?
Creeping in the dark
Writing words you’ll never read
Reaching out for the point where everything meets

The other day I cracked in the corner of the grocery store
Beside the bread and bagels
Had to wipe the embarrassment off my face with the sleeve of my shirt
This is the trouble with pretending to be self-secure

I often hear the precise sound of your feet
reaching my doorstep
but you’re never at the door when I convince myself to open it
Your car, never in the driveway
Your business card, pinned to my bulletin board
next to the letter you wrote titled “I never write love letters…”
Your clothes, still tucked away in your section of the room
No longer shed the scent of you

At the beginning of this relationship you swore,
“We’re getting into something that will be
too hard to get out of”
And it’s true,
Every time I start to escape
I instinctively come back to this place
but isn’t everybody’s heart lopsided in their chest?

Britta B.



  1. Thank you for posting this. I enjoyed reading it very much. Checking up on peoples poetry and writing is something I do often. I try to keep up with today’s trends so I’m more active in the writing community. Thanks again for sharing this.

  2. Good points

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