make me cry
on the wooden ledge
we built to spend a lifetime
rotting away
it's fading.

make it hurt more than
the pounding on the wall
ceases to be, louder than
a slamming door on
the thoughts i had.

make it last
with the leftover paint
me with roses, in your hands
it drops under the rain
the memories i cherished.

make it disappear
as the opportunities drift by
you hanging threads
off your windowsill vision
the life i dreamed of.

perhaps
when the leaves fall, you'll remember
the love i gave.