ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ // ɢʀᴇᴇɴ

trudging through the buildup of leaves,

the smell of petrichor.

falling into a deep sleep

until you take another

long

      

step.

eyes gone dull, carrying heavy weight

and hair falling to your face.

your bag droops from your shoulder

to your hand

and you drag it through the leaves.

stepping in the puddles

that the sky made with it's tears.

your blazer is dusty

and your tie dangles in front of your sight,

lying on the concrete screen.

your eyes wander the nostalgic grounds,

ing the place you would once call home.

you trace your hands

across the bricks

then peer through the windows

and see the artwork you once made.

pushing the door,

stepping onto the carpet.

breathing in the clean air,

you hesitate-

as for when you look around the room

everything is the same;

the ordinary way.

stepping up to the desk,

and seeing the same woman.

the same woman who would make you laugh

when you were sad.

but of course, she doesn't recognise

you.

after all, her hair had gone white and so had her hands.

taking a breath, you state your meaning of presence.

"i need you to help me-

-but let me cry a bit first.."