47 minutes of the hour I spend looking at her.
She turns towards me
innocently and without intention
we lock eyes and I convince myself that I means something.
It must mean something that she looked at me, even though I was already looking at her.
it means something when my eyes dance around the room
in search of her
and she’s facing in my direction.
when she gets closer and we lock eyes.
It means something.
It means something when she’s facing forward and I turn back.
She’s looking at me
2 minutes of the hour she spends looking at me.
When I turn towards her, she usually doesn’t notice.
When she glances around the room, looking for entertainment
during a lesson gone on far too long,
I will be there to lock eyes.
Maybe it’s something.
probably it’s not.
A forbidden love
A forbidden affair
An impermissible relationship
One so sacred, yet so secret
Letters passed between the lovers
Brief affections, hidden behind closed doors
But little movement
For what can you do
When the woman you love
Has ties to another
The another that is your brother
i felt your hand wrapped around my arm
it was dark
you didn't know it was me
but all i could think about
was that it was you
WOW I have not written a poem since FOREVER ago but I am back with a lot of motivation :)
I would tell everyone
but it seems unfair
that they never had
to sit there terrified
wondering if they
would be accepted
about who they love
A short poem about having to come out.. the whole thing just seems unfair to me
am I actually missing him
or missing the person
I built in my head
to fill the emptiness
of not knowing