Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Amanda Small Dec 2016
i hear your car pull into the driveway
and I rush to close my eyes.

i pull the covers to my shoulders
and pretend that i am sleeping

this has become my ritual

i can hear your key turn in the lock and my heart presses against my ribcage.
i have been waiting for this

you quietly enter our bedroom
the smell of snow follows you in.

silence
(just for a moment.)
then
the rustle of layers being shed

i feel the bed shift as you climb in next to me

slowly
you reach for me
lightly touching my side

in this dark room
i am beaming

'hey'

it's all you say,
but in it i can hear the high note of every love song.

with a smile firmly in place
i slowly open my eyes

only to find myself alone

in a room miles away
This is the first poem I've shared in years, so any critique is more than welcome.
Amanda Small May 2015
i'm twenty-one years old and most days don't seem worth it.

growing up i always had the assumption that these feelings would go away.
that life would become more appealing
that my depression and anxiety would finally stop sleeping over.

no one ever wants to tell you that you don't grow out of depression.
that you learn to wear it like a second skin

they just keep telling you that things will get better
and i want to believe them

so i go home
and watch the clock
and day dream about eventually
Amanda Small Jul 2014
and all these years later
i still have a tendency to wander
to spin
to dance

and you watch me.
you watch me drift from foot to foot just testing my own stability
(i'm a lot more stable than i used to be)

i'm finally used to me
Amanda Small Jul 2014
your voice
reminds me of bumble bees and ice cream
Amanda Small Mar 2014
we ****** on my best friend's futon
i had bits of gravel embedded in my palm

i'm always falling head over heels
Next page