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He Was My Mosaic Masterpiece
July 10, 2015
I only dream beautiful things about you,
As I wake up to the buzz of the city below me.
I roll over and your empty flask falls off of the bed.
Your presence still lingers within the sheets.
I leap across mile markers in my head, home isn't apartment 146 anymore.
As I pull a t-shirt over my head, I realize that like wild flowers
You grew within the deepest parts of me.
I walk down seven flights of stairs, and make my way through the crowded streets.
You have left me here wondering if goodbye hurts any less in a different language.
© Sarah M., Phoenix, AZ
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I wrote this poem during the Alfred University Creative Writing Summer Program. The prompt was to write a 103 word story or poem consisting of conflict.