My shitty poetry diary

A waning waltz

I never thought you would've left me on the ballroom floor,
Alone, after you waltzed briskly through the breath of my life.
After we promenaded through new experiences and to the musical keys of our beating hearts.
And I know I dropped your hand,
But you should've picked it back up and spun me around until I was dizzy and saw recollections of our love.
You should've noticed how our routine was waning,
Like a piano that's keys were slowly turning discordant.
And how my dress that once illuminated was fading into the grey of solemn sheet music.
Every waltz of our passion was beginning to feel like a rehearsal rather than a spontaneous love story.

Maybe I should have just kept waltzing to the ambience I was so scared of.