Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Monday, you promised you'd come home, the door was left open.
Tuesday, a little late but I thought I could wait.
Wednesday, I went through the laundry to find your clothes, hoping they still smelled like you.
Thursday, tasted a lot like you when I emptied the bottle of bourbon.
Friday, I was sober enough to think again but you were still missing.
Saturday, I got a call asking if I'd written the eulogy.
Sunday, I realized you were never coming home again...
© Raina Rose.
I feel old now...
HOW WAS THIS RELEASED 7 YEARS AGO NOW!?!?