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The Day 

Toka Siyam 

Contributor


I woke up early this morning,

hours before my alarm,

out of a fitful slumber that felt more like a nightmare. 

I left your bed, packed up my things, and walked out. 

 

I wanted to know that when I left it meant

something, anything,

that it mattered to you.

 

I sobbed twice before 8:30,

ridding myself of what made me want to leave yesterday

and the day before,

then wondered what had made me stay in the first place.

 

It’s pouring rain, but I don’t feel it,

and I don't understand you better. 

 

I wonder if everyone can see the sadness I carry.

Or is it an invisible weight that only I know of?

Can you see the clouds above my head?

 

I feel like a ghost of an old self most days.

 

I put on a dress for her today.

Brushed my hair and put on lipstick,

grasping for just one moment of how it once was. 

 

I thought I’d find her again with you,

but she only drifted further.

The longer I stayed,

the longer the journey back home got. 

 

Today is the day I leave. 

 

Today, I go home to her.


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