there's a golden ring tied to my necklace
there鈥檚 a golden ring tied to my necklace
My back is pressed against the tiled floor.
A chill goes down my spine and I realize
this cold surface isn鈥檛 getting any warmer.
My eyes scan the popcorn ceiling
and a wave of nostalgia hits me
as I remember the stars that used to brighten my room.
My head falls to my right. Lying on the floor,
as if it had been carefully placed,
is a golden ring.
I close my eyes.
Once perfectly placed on your ring finger;
now carefully placed on a cold floor.
I don鈥檛 think about how it got there.
Instead, I bring it closer to my face.
A deep shade of magenta stares back, but my eyes don鈥檛 look at the precious gem.
They linger on the year engraved on the sides.
I don鈥檛 think about the year 1985.
I don鈥檛 think of the way you were once here;
of the way you once used to wear a newer version of this ring.
I certainly don鈥檛 think of you receiving this ring for the first time.
Instead, I press my lips against the gem.
I pull away and see my reflection in a magenta kaleidoscope.
I have to remind myself that it鈥檚 me staring back.
no one else
A deep sigh escapes my lips.
I tie the ring to my necklace since it would never perfectly fit my finger
and I let my eyes go back to the popcorn ceiling.