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DearPoetry

Published: Oct 20, 2013

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Literature Text

You told me I was November’s ambrosia sweet on your tongue. But now all I feel is discord, sieging and overthrowing the 3,000 year old tree inside of me.- Centuries to grow so tall and strong- 9 mere minutes to fall. You no longer smile anymore. And I am here, silent as stone- the carcass of a dead... wild thing hoping you don't leave me on the side of the road.

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My first poem in months, trying to get back into the grove of writing and answering the buildup of secrets in my inbox.

The secret: He was happy before he started dating me…

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