A Wilting Blossom

The sweet smelling blossom
Lies wilting in my hand.

The blossom he handed me

Is dying

As my missing him

Is growing.

I feel his lips on mine

From his last kiss.

I feel his breath

On my neck

From his whisper

“I love you.”

I feel his hands

On each side of my face

As he placed a sweet kiss

Atop my forehead.

I feel his hands

Closing the blossom in mine.

I feel my heart breaking

As I watch him turn and leave.

He turns back

And shouts

“I will always love you!”

Before he disappears

Into the setting sun.

Reviews

[Roxas Ohara]

I really liked this poem Taylor, very deep and emotional (: And it's true, I will always love you (: