He calls me his May
The month where summer sets in
The time where we'd bask in sunlight on a sunny day
The emotions of warmth and love come to display
He'd call me his May
But now we're in the month of June
Where his new priorities were giving a feeling of dismay
Where the tragic heartbreak caused me to be in disarray
He would now never call me his May
Because we're slowly entering July
Our happiness and memories. They fade away
In the distance where I have no control
From being his May
To then no longer be his May
To never hearing him utter "May"
This May be because perhaps I was only May
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Author:
auvit (
Offline) - Published: June 17th, 2023 15:01
- Comment from author about the poem: I've fallen in love for this boy. He would call me his "May" as a little nickname. I loved it. It reminded me of the month itself where summer starts to emerge, the heat refusing to leave, a time in year when the best memories start to form. It felt like our love was summer. But I should've remembered summer is a season where it only lasts temporarily. The months of summer start passing and love between us dies because I realise he no longer feels the same. It's a heartache for me. The poem also reminds me of my naivety, I always saw the word "May" to be associated with the month May, but instead may can also mean a possibility. This whole time I was his possibility - never something to fully commit too. Now summer will start to end and officially the memories and love between us would be forgotten, probably for him but definitely not for me.
- Category: Love
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
Lovely writing I like how you have expressed yourself in this 🙂
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