Grave mistakes never dig their own holes in the ground,
Great loves always lose themselves when they get found.
I bury the grey bodies of those who fell for mine,
But yours is still out there, silent like a true mime.
Every blink of an eye shoots through me like centuries.
No one knows what happened, only what is meant to be.
Grave mistakes never find themselves at ancient cemeteries,
Great loves always stumble on the simplest of fallacies.
Every single love I had rots in my petty graveyard
While I wait for you to send me a threat or a postcard.
And you even might be the one that got away for good.
Still, I chase closure like peace is hidden in your “coulds”.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 