I'm storing away table settings that have long been covered since I started working here. Ones that will probably never be seen again because corona has changed our lives forever.
And I feel like I'm packing away my decorations after Christmas. This is a goodbye I don't know if I'll ever see (again).
People are coming in as I'm to leave. Taking job interview applications and talking to me. I can't help but see every face as a replacement. I'm going to miss this place, the people more than I thought I ever could.
The worst part is I'm the reason I'm leaving. It's my choice, but its not. College is calling me back. I guess my worse fear is that come winter time I won't be welcome back.
YOU ARE READING
Metamorphosis
Poetry"You do not cease to exist just because I wish you to." Started: 4/3/20 Finished: 8/20/20 My 6th poetry book.
