(no subject)
Today a drive home with deep silence and words
swallowed by the wind. All the lights were out
in the sky, covered by a dim grey billowing blanket
that forgot to keep us warm. He was close,
murmuring about Christmas and lost days
and staying a million miles away from me.
It's almost over, I thought, I am leaving you,
stretching myself away from you when I
do not really want to go. Our days are numbered,
our loss only known to me and the fates, and
the shadows of what could have been.
*
I am leaving my home, packed my boxes, and am
moving out tomorrow. Journal entries from here
on in will be sporadic, for anyone who reads this...