Leaving Love Behind

It was the month of May 2023 

For 4 hours we drove from Susie to York Beach 

And it was the last time we visited Maine when you were alive. 

I remember Mom's pearl Honda drifting under the Emerald Bridge.

Your twinkling laugh; 

Shrill like frosting on a warm Cinnamon Bun.

I gazed at the fridged waves frothing like winter icing.

The water pinched my cheeks with sorrow but I didn't care.

The sea that day was cold, 

And your hands were colder.

That night we ate at The Steakhouse in Wells.

You said you were too sick for lobster,

So like me, 

You ordered my favorite Chicken Cordon Bleu.

later we drove past Bush’s Palace,

And we dreamt of a rich life.

A life full of decadent gingerbread houses,

Of mini golf at the Nubble, 

Of a life like Diana and the Crown,

Of a life we knew we could never have.

But a rich life, I already had with you.

The next day at dusk I flew my rainbow-ribbon kite into the After. 

The wind hugged me tight like your gelid arms.

I remember the sulfur smell of dying seaweed;

And I knew you were dying too.

I remember the faint spiral staircase gracing the silver shoreline.

And I cried when the sky broke into a million beams of heaven.

I remember counting down the days when I knew you would leave me;

A thousand,

A hundred,

A week,

One.

I remember the Neptune sea and your powered sugar tears - 

But I smiled for you;

And I knew that Maine would never be the same.

You said you wanted to see the it one last time.

Back then, your eyes were as blue as the ocean depths.

And your eyes were fading fast like a red spring Robin. 

And I knew this would be the last time -

It was the last time we visited Maine before you died.

MillieMilesinTheWild

VT

16 years old

More by MillieMilesinTheWild

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    I am bleeding endlessly.

    And I don’t know what to do.

    I forget the color of your eyes

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  • Red Clover

    I dream of him less than I used to – 

    But our story always starts the same. 

    I am small, and his oil-stained hands hold me like the Red Clover, 

    So tightly that I think he’ll never let me go. 

  • Blue Hour

    It is 4 in the morning and I am alone.

    I sit my sadness on the willow tree.

    And the Earth is covered in a thousand shards of heaven;

    Like a kaleidoscope, rainbows fall through the trees.