The Summer That WasThis was the summer I said goodbye to you,
a deep heat, gardening, breaking, causing blisters
in the ground, so hard, I thought we would melt.
Stopping for a drink, long and cool, glasses sweating,
beads of perspiration, despair and a finger of a glimpse
to what a future could or would possibly hold.
To this day, I do not know why, I chose that time,
but as we sat, a wheelbarrow full of clippings,
my shears carelessly left open and the gravel burning
I knew, just as the crust of earth broke beneath my trowel
that growing old with you, was never an option,
filled me with a feeling of deepest and most hollow dread.
They say it is always easier being the one to end it all,
it is not, there are scars, the death of hope and love
the fragility of life, spent wasting on the kiln bricks
that mark a pathway to everlasting lost of memory and reason.
That was the day I said goodbye and my heart splintered
and the stem of the glass broke, shearing my hand
its sweating droplets mixing with my lifebloods, as colour drained
and it was just another heat seeking day, looking for life
and ennui in the death of a relationship that will lead nowhere
Just to gates that remain perpetually closed, only freedom
has the key. I pick up the poor butterfly that flutters inside
this glass dome and gently I walk towards the wind and let it go.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2015-06-07 at 20:42
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