So I walked through my apartment door alone, lost and with the stale taste of regret on my lips.
You see I’d got back from the night before of drunken kisses and I love you’s. But when I closed your door and I turned to leave you be, I knew that I’d never see you again.
Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme it just has to make you feel something. This was written when my best friend had her heart broken and we sat in her room eating ice cream crying with each other. Today she is whole and smiling again. I couldn’t be happier.