Ann Morphett Poems

Today is the day, as cheesy as it can get, is our anniversary. The day we became who we are, best friends, inseparable, together. Today is the day of sickly love notes and too much chocolate; Valentine’s Day. Except today is different, they won’t look at me, go near me or even acknowledge that I exist, with only a note to say their goodbye. But what did it matter? It’s not like it could be my fault.

Instead of moping around I decided to cheer up someone else, someone who seems lonely on my bus. I’d seen them before but never really spoken to them, too shy to say hi. We hit it off instantly, albeit a little quiet. I seemed to forget for the moment about the loss of my best friend, and remember the glory of gaining a new one. I got barely any sleep from talking to them until late that night, but that’s my fault.
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