avatarGeorgiana Petec

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

864

Abstract

my trusted Fitbit reassures. Does this mean I’m done?</p><p id="8381">Parted souls we cannot see anymore, what did they taste of when alive? We remember the joy, the laughter… Maybe juicy oranges and watermelon?</p><p id="f19f">I know what my taste of you would be, in memory, how about me for you? Bitter words, raised voices, spiteful comments, sad how they creep into love.</p><p id="97a2">The tea in my mug gives comfort, it’s warm in a world of cold. I wish you’d remember me as this tea feels now, flowery, reassuring, mellow.</p><p id="338f">I wrote this poem after having just found out that someone dear to me who helped me a lot when I most needed help, passed away last night. I haven’t seen her in fifteen years and never will again. Death is our tragedy, and even though we know it’s coming, it’s still devastating when it does.</p><p id="8751"><i>C

Options

opyright © 2021 by Georgiana Petec. All rights reserved.</i></p><div id="0dda" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/my-body-my-map-78186e94b24d"> <div> <div> <h2>My body, my map</h2> <div><h3>The scars you see are smiles now</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*WAjCejT4UobedH8t5Mfc-A.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="228f">Thank you, <a href="https://readmedium.com/48102d77b16c?source=post_page-----63b2ba3f2528--------------------------------">J.D. Harms</a>, for the <a href="https://medium.com/scrittura/tagged/prompt">sensations</a> prompt.</p></article></body>

My taste

I wish you’d remember me as this tea feels now

Image by Foundry Co from Pixabay

My tongue, no wonder it loves sweet, I wish I didn’t taste death, so pungent, putrid and raw, pain lurking upward to the palate, souring even the idea of sweet.

How long we go, how many steps in this journey of ours? Apparently I’ve already travelled the Earth, my trusted Fitbit reassures. Does this mean I’m done?

Parted souls we cannot see anymore, what did they taste of when alive? We remember the joy, the laughter… Maybe juicy oranges and watermelon?

I know what my taste of you would be, in memory, how about me for you? Bitter words, raised voices, spiteful comments, sad how they creep into love.

The tea in my mug gives comfort, it’s warm in a world of cold. I wish you’d remember me as this tea feels now, flowery, reassuring, mellow.

I wrote this poem after having just found out that someone dear to me who helped me a lot when I most needed help, passed away last night. I haven’t seen her in fifteen years and never will again. Death is our tragedy, and even though we know it’s coming, it’s still devastating when it does.

Copyright © 2021 by Georgiana Petec. All rights reserved.

Thank you, J.D. Harms, for the sensations prompt.

Poetry
Writing
Life
Death
Prompt
Recommended from ReadMedium