1 minute read

“Graveyard” by Acadia Grantham

Tell me why I have the urge to listen to songs that remind me of you when I cried about you just last week. Why I feel the need to make a playlist so I have something to scream along to when I’m hurting. Thoughts of you make the roads blurry and the windows foggy late at night when I waste my gas just so I can feel free. You still grasp me tightly, even though I have no idea where you are. You could be my neighbor or across the country; Either way, You still make breathing harder.

I still can’t go back to that place. It was something we loved, Somewhere where we could express our passions. Now I can’t even bring myself to walk my dog along those paths. Every time I pass your neighborhood, my chest seizes. I half expect to see you walking Max down the sidewalk. For you to look up at just the right moment, Even though you have no idea what my car looks like. For you to scratch at the surface of my newfound happiness… and crush it. Shatter to break, as it’s been said.

Advertisement

That’s what you’ve always been best at. You take other people’s lives and hold them in the palm of your hand. You shake them like a snowglobe, for your own entertainment, and watch them slowly lose hope. The snowflakes settle and all is calm. Gingerly, you raise the glass to your lips, Savoring the power you hold so dear. Then you drop it, Almost like it was an accident.

They scramble to try and pick up the pieces, But the shards cut their fingers And soon their blood, sweat and tears have become part of their life on the floor.

I hate that you hold space in my head. You of all people deserve it the least.

This article is from: