Left

I thought she would be
the one
who I would wait up for
like the rising of the sun,
but now I feel
something else besides
time moving,
like the moon and the tides.

This love has always been
a four letter word
I could never give
action to like a verb,
even when I believed
I felt it at first,
it was just another
part of me dying of thirst.

Now this pine box is full
of fresh flowers and my wilted heart,
who knew she would
tear my work apart.

No more holding hands,
the city is too hot,
no more late nights,
these words are really all I got…
left.