three weeks

The last phone call,
the last her eyes sought his,
the last inhale of his scent,
the last bit of skin on skin,
three weeks.

Three weeks for her heart to shatter,
for her to cry, scream, beg and plead.
Three weeks to curse the world black.
Three weeks to bleed pain.
Three weeks, three long weeks
of withdrawal.

Three weeks till she can smile
with the sunrise.
Three weeks till she can dream.
Three weeks till she can work
on healing that broken heart.

(so she might as well, scream.)

©CHRYSAALISSDREAM

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2 thoughts on “Addictions

    1. A specter of life at the least and the lessons I’ve learned so far. Was inspired to share after having consumed too many poetical breakup emotional offerings of arranged words. I felt the need to paint the end of the tunnel on the walls.

      Liked by 1 person

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