Seven

The day comes around, expectedly.
I know it’s coming, still, it’s a punch to the face.

Since you left it seems life is moving at a speed of light pace.

Seven, the amount of months you’ve been gone. It never gets easier.

If life were a game of chess, losing you wasn’t the moving of a pawn. But the toppling of a king.

Published by Nate Melugin

This is a creative outlet for me to get out the things that rattle around constantly in my mind.

One thought on “Seven

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