September 18th

So I write poetry whenever I'm sad or really inspired, and I wrote a poem titled "September 18th" last year. It's definitely not the best I've ever done, but since today is the 18th I figured I might as well post it.

September 18th

A written letter,
Heartbroken but just,
Shows up at my door,
September 18th.

Words spill out,
The tears flow too,
Of sadness no,
But relief and contempt.

A six month period;
Half of a year,
Comes to thirteen hours,
Until you move on.

My story told,
Exactly as it happened,
At least I get to say,
It was me, I win!

Friendship reigns,
Loosely, painfully.
But nonetheless,
I meet him halfway.