A blank page follows behind every diary entry that I have written since you've left. Since you've gone out and begun a new life.
A new life that no longer involves me
Praying this dripping black ink will color the straight lines in swirling letters
Overwhelmed with your return
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Hours tick by quickly from the loud, clock beside me as my hand graces the buttery soft pages
Tear stained and crinkled
The paper has become worn
Breaking down the thin material
Pigment dying the worn thread
There will always be an empty page...
Or 2
Maybe ever a couple more
Begging to be filled
It's a compulsion now
Skipping a couple of pages before starting each entry
I won't apologize for my actions either
I'm not ashamed
If my long-lost lover were to ever come back into my life, I would sprawl every overflowing emotion I feel
Filling the blank pages
My 150-page journal would finally be complete
Front to back
Words overlapping
Messy
To excited to contain myself
I would watch the reds and yellows and oranges tint the book as the sun rises and falls through the cold window
One day, the lines will be filled in. For now, there will be a blank page
YOU ARE READING
My Head's Above Water
PoetryLosing the one you thought you'd have forever will really put things into perspective. Life and death, love and hate, the old and the new. Lay back and relax, we're getting over a heartbreak one miserable poem after the other.
