The Pain of Letting Go

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about moving on.

Submitted: September 09, 2013

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Submitted: September 09, 2013

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Your ring slipped off my finger indiscreetly,

Like the night you slipped out of the house.

It tumbled, and pushed its way through the air,

Like a pebble falling through water.

Colliding with the dirty floor (I know how much you hate dirt)

and after the dust gently settled, I saw all that it dragged with it.

The evening we sat under the moon’s embrace,

Grasping my hands and telling me you wished we were there

Instead of here.

Dragging all the throbbing you left in my bones,

Tensions grip on my face

Drowning them beneath the waves.

I picked the ring up, and inside it was all the weight that had drawn my core from my body.

The evening you told me you loved me like the birds love music.

The darkness when you told me the music had died.

I watched the ring sink through layers of fast food wrappers and spoiled leftovers,

It disappeared from my view and so did you.

 The rubbish was a small reminder of its existence

A small reminder that finally you have found a place you can call home. 

Your ring slipped off my finger indiscreetly,

Like the night you slipped out of the house.

It tumbled, and pushed its way through the air,

Like a pebble falling through water.

Colliding with the dirty floor (I know how much you hate dirt)

and after the dust gently settled, I saw all that it dragged with it.

The evening we sat under the moon’s embrace,

Grasping my hands and telling me you wished we were there

Instead of here.

Dragging all the throbbing you left in my bones,

Tensions grip on my face

Drowning them beneath the waves.

I picked the ring up, and inside it was all the weight that had drawn my core from my body.

The evening you told me you loved me like the birds love music.

The darkness when you told me the music had died.

I watched the ring sink through layers of fast food wrappers and spoiled leftovers,

It disappeared from my view and so did you.

 The rubbish was a small reminder of its existence

A small reminder that finally you have found a place you can call home. 


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