Posted in Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Bees

Shed not one tear.

I am only a memory,

that you revisit,

reminiscing,

until you see me again,

but I ask you not to cry,

if this is the last time.

So it may be,

that tomorrow is a lovely day,

like Vera promised.

I tried not to promise,

too much of myself,

but in the end,

I was helpless to your hunger.

Wilting and then rising again,

sick but sweet symbiosis,

that makes your friends roll their eyes,

and your mum say,

that maybe you’re moving too fast.

Shed not one tear.

I am not ready, to see you miss me.

I am not ready to see, how my vanishing acts,

vandalise you.

Tomorrow used to be this little idea,

that I thought wasn’t real,

in the way some people look at climate change and think,

“nah”

So it may be,

that I am bound to you.

I share with you,

everything, including,

my disruptive dramatics,

screaming into pillows,

then melting into your lap.

You can’t seem to get enough,

and I used to worry,

that you will always follow me,

but now,

I worry that you won’t.

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