Member-only story
We’re More Than a Sea of Problems
Prose Poetry
The ticking of the clock should be a premonition, each second winding down to a moment when you’ll leave — or should I do the walking?
I wanted the world to know you were mine, but our plays of affection had long become stilted — the ways of bad reviews for movies in the paper, all that hype built up only to come crashing down.
We thought we were the power couple, the duo that would be able to survive an apocalypse if we had to — but the end of the world came to our door through our own two hands.
We fought like children who knew only how to scream obscenities, flagrant words from worse times when we knew more hate than love.
Stay, I might have told you on a good night — but we had run out of good nights, at least the ones of late.
The waves crashed against our feet, and we had no choice but to sink or swim.
I left you behind in the undertow. You didn’t seem to care as the waters swept you away from me.
Goodbye — such a simple word, one we never dared to utter, but you pressed your hand to mine, palm to palm, and I knew then that was the last time we would ever touch.
You looked like a ghost when you departed in the rain.
I already know you’ll haunt me. That’s all right, my dear lost love.
I hope I haunt you too.
