blog Short Stories Writing

The last time..

The last time we’d met,

You’d vowed never to meet again.


And left in a huff.


The last we’d met,

You’d stormed across the ballroom,

And pulling me by an arm, dragged me to the street.


The last we’d met,

You’d called me names.


Names I’d never thought, you could use for me.


I didn’t speak; I had nothing to say.

I silently accepted the names you called me.


The last we’d met,

You’d told me if I ever tried to meet you,

I will find you dead.


And here you are,

Here to meet me,

On your own.


Your eyes closed; sleeping peacefully.

You refuse to open your eyes.


I tried to tell you I was sorry.

That I didn’t mean to hurt you.

That it was just a one time thing.

. .

But you are a man of your words;

My man in uniform.


I had forced myself to not look for you,

And when you did come to me, it was in a coffin.

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  1. I love the flow and feel of this piece. There are so many couples staying separate due to so many reasons, and separate here means just away, not like having issues with each other. I think there’s a spark in distance, too. But not always is the end too happy. A good one 🙂

  2. This is just MY STORY except for the coffin part of it and it hurts. Sigh 🙁

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