Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Pride Month 2022, Writing

Wardrobe

I can charm the birds from the trees,
the leaves from the autumn wind and the salt from the ocean,
but she is stuck, at the back and bottom of her wardrobe,
hands over her ears as I sing my sweet, siren song.

Sometimes we swap places and she knocks incessantly at the door,
as I shake my head and sob to drown out the delicious demon that waits on the other side.

I have found another song that reminds me of her,
another place in my head that she has decided to haunt,
and I just added the song to the list,
laying in the dark and listening with tears in my eyes,
because this is too much,
and there’s nothing I can do.

When will I stop loving her?

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