A shattered glass
litters the floors
like confetti
the day after
the grand event.
It's just kind of sad.
I let out
an exhausted
sigh.
He was supposed to be here.
But he isn't.
Instead,
I sit beside the open window
with a heavy
anxiety
that I toss between my hands.
Nails scratching at
dried skin
as I grate the uncertainty
out of myself.
Momentary deep breaths.
He was supposed to be here.
Like confetti.
He said he would be here.
The day after the grand event.
He said.
I let out
an
exhausted
sigh.
He.
A shattered glass.
I never got to say
Momentary deep breaths.
Goodbye.
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