Coming back

25 October 20205 November 2020 ~ W. Donovan

I looked forward to coming back home, but as I drove puddles cut my way. I had to stop. I got out of my car, stepping straight into a swamp and staining my neat shoes. I knew the marks would never come off.

There was no coming back.

I remembered the home from the old times. When you were there, waiting for me, brewing tea, sitting in a chair. That was what I hoped to come back to.

Even though I perfectly knew you, I completely forgot who you were and what you did to me. I just missed you. I wanted you to sit next to me.

You always said what you felt, but I never wanted you to love me. Now I want nothing but you to love me.

There is no coming back.

Published by W. Donovan

Weronika Donovan is an amateur writer and photographer. She's an artistic soul. She was born in Poland, where she was brought up and educated. Her adventure with writing began in her late teens, but she started blogging only ten years later. Her poetry has grown since that time. She started to use words more consciously. She defined the journey of her life, portraying it in four volumes of poetry. First of them called 'Ghosts' was self-published in 2019. Weronika is a loner. She likes wandering to interesting places, always choosing her own path. View all posts by W. Donovan