By: Marissa Ammon
I lay each night weeping in my bed,
my brain on replay of memories
when everything was perfect, a beautiful teardrop
streams from each eye; the pillow not stained,
my heart can’t move, I’m forced to breathe
Unmuted conversations, the frame shattered,
the photos deleted. My head goes back
to the teddy, enveloped in lust and tragedy.
It’s done I scream. Forget about it!
Our love kept away in a box
so when I die, one opens the toxic, tattered,
but unbreakable; Pandora fashion.
They’ll feel the love and it will die
like a beautiful garden of flowers
I miss your kisses, your hugs, your love.
We don’t forget, and I want you again.
How? There’s no point.
That’s why I lay each night
weeping in my bed