Denise Lee

Winter Evening

That one day in the middle of winter
When people looked outside of their frosted windows
And watch as the warmth of the sun overlay the bare trees
And the neighborhood is full of noises from their silences.
Later that day, the setting sky looked like a box of paints
Through which the color orange starts to stain the pale blue,
Spreading so delicately.
All day, I’ve kept trying to put up a fight,
Offering chances to break loose from him.
He kept passing them like strangers in a crowd he was used to walking by.
Sometimes when he makes me cry, I wonder about how
the satisfaction and happiness from his thoughts are part
of the tears that fall so slowly, down the rim of my eyes,
Sometimes I think about my family,
My shattering history with boys
I can feel the roots of pain
Tearing, destroying my heart
And wanting to let myself to have a chance to
Walk away, and not turn back
So we lay on the wooden floor,
Promises broken, wasted on me
Persuaded that everything has turned into nothing
While through the empty windows come
A new day for a beautiful disaster.




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