Freyed

A mere distraction

Our laughter echoes up the pathway of the library;
our smiles and giggles shining a bright display of colours.
Our hands are locked tightly,
screaming to never let go.
Yet every afternoon, we let go.
Our smiles drop;
our laughter ends;
and I am left to retrace my steps back home;
with salted water that trickles down my face,
every step of the way.
Every afternoon the bed creases,
with my hand gripping the phone resting in it.
Every afternoon I am tugging at my heart,
waiting for a text from them.
Every afternoon I remember that I am merely a temporary distraction for them.
Yet every morning,
I am still excited to see them;
knowing I will be forgotten once again.