Poetry

The Old Days

the old days

Sleepless nights and the quivering dawn never bring me peace. I once knew the warmth of your touch, your arms holding me together when I struggled to hide my never ending pain. I once knew those gentle strokes in my hair, and even though I protested, I never minded when I felt my curls turn to frizz. I once knew the brilliance of your blue eyes, the sound of your laugh when you struggled to keep from smiling and how it made me laugh as you failed. But these days, I see the gray spreading in your hair, the stress you hold in your shoulders, and how much you try to hide it. Words cannot describe how sorry I am for what I put you through every day. Words cannot express how much I miss you.

© Sarah Doughty

For the #MayBookPrompts – Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil
Photo and edit are mine.

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