13 years


Year 1
You left in the early morning sunrise.
Coffee on your breath nicotine on your tongue.
You didn’t kiss me goodbye.

Year 2
A year passed and autumn leaves blow through town like you did on route 75.
I thought I saw your face again,
Reflected through the window of your favorite ice-cream shop.

Year 3
Feb 10th the anniversary of when you left.
Bottle of champagne to mask the sting.
A girl’s head lays on my thighs, I know I’m going to have to leave in the morning.

Year 4
They say time heals all wounds but last time I checked.
I’m still bleeding from the inside and its bubbling out of my mouth.
You always said my words weren’t as pretty as others girls.

Year 5
I called in sick today,  last night.
Your buddy got drunk and crashed on my bathroom floor.
Between throwing up and sobbing he says its time he visits you.

Year 6
I’m dating new people, ones who won’t leave me like you.
And I know that shitty to say but it’s true.
Her name is Summer and she will never be as good as you.

Year 7
Breakups are hard is that why you left like a coward.
Summer packed up her things from my apartment this week.
Guess she knew I would never get over you.

Year 8
I want to start a family, it’s horrible I know.
But I’m nearing my 30s regretfully so.
Who says I can’t do it on my own?

Year 9
Your favorite color has always been green.
Green like the apple that we used to pick from trees.
Grass is green. I wonder if any grew over your grave.

Year 10
Me and that buddy who got shitfaced on my floor,
Have come to the agreement that we will be more.
He says he doesn’t want to replace you but its been 10 long years.

Year 11
He proposing to me under moonlight.
It’s nothing compared to the measures you went to.
But what me and him have isn’t love so I guess it will do.

Year 12
We had a child, a baby boy.
We brought him to your grave.
He is named after you my dear.

Year 13
It’s been a 13 years since that day a month since I thought about you.
But a blue bird flew by my window.
And I remembered that day, the day you left for work, sped down the highway and died.

13 years.
13 long years.
I think I’m ready to let your memory fly away.

– Atlas

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