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Apr 2014 · 272
Poem
Gracie Herrmann Apr 2014
If I was a talented writer

Maybe someone, anyone, would understand
The skip in my chest the first time you told me you loved me

Maybe then I could understand why it doesn't seem so present anymore

If these words came out as I wanted them
Maybe I’d be lucky to see you’re brown eyes dance once more
And my pillow wouldn't be stained with
Freshly smeared make up  
due to the venom you put in my veins

My breath seems flattened with you so far away
My throat is raw from all the feelings I've swallowed
To try and guard myself from the promotion
That kept me awake at 2:53

You could never be a stranger to me  
I know you too well to pretend I don’t feel my stomach drop when I see you

I envy the way you can put me away, and shut me out.

I can’t wait forever.
I’m sick and worn down
of being a prisoner to my feelings…

so tell me dear, is this worth it?

~g.h.

— The End —