From the first time we talked and the weeks that followed. I knew from the beginning I wanted you. From the first time we met in person, and the through the nervousness that subsided soon after. I knew I wanted you. From the first night we spent together. And the hundreds that followed soon after, I knew I wanted you.
It had only been a week since we had actually met in person when you asked me to be your girl. But I knew then that I wanted you. From the night we watched fireworks together at the lake. I knew then that I wanted you. I knew I wanted you from the first "I love you" the first kiss, the first everything. There will still be first. And I know that through all of them I'll still want you. We've fought a lot... and grown together and apart. And together again. And yet here I am still wanting you. At the end of the day here I am wanting to come home to you. Wake up next to you live my life next to you... it has always been you.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Mary Ellen and writers in Poets and other communities.
Death
All of them. I've watched them die. I've watched them take their last breath. I sat there in silence. Checked for a pulse, removed their clothes, washed their bodies, redressed them to be taken away to the funeral home. Held their grieving families as they wail in tears of pain. The loudest screams and cries of denial. "No god, not her, not my momma." I then open the window to let their souls escape to the heavens. I've cared for these people day in and day out for days, months, years even.. but yet not a single tear falls because it's my job. I'm used to it. This is what happens. It's a part of life. Death. It is not something that you should be used to, or even comfortable with. But I am. I've watched over 50 people in a year die. I know the steps, the signs for when death is near. It's always the same, but yet I no longer feel the sadness and heartbreak of death. I send them off with an I love you and a kiss upon their forehead. This is the way it is, all the time. But the truth is. I'm used to death. And I shouldn't be. Death does not scare me. Because it is very rare now that I lose one that breaks me a little. But when they do. When I feel that pain, it's good because it reminds me that I'm still human.
By Mary Ellen6 years ago in Poets
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.