Photography, Poetry

The Old Days

the old days

“My love, I miss the old you.
Without all the stress
I’ve added to your shoulders.”

Sleepless nights and the quivering dawn never bring me peace. It’s in those lonely moments that I remember. That I once knew the warmth of your touch, your arms holding me together when I struggled to hide my never–ending pain. That 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. That 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

I don’t think I’ll ever stop
missing you.

For the 2016 #MayBookPrompts:
Midnight In The Garden
Of Good And Evil
Photo is mine.

1 thought on “The Old Days”

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