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I'm sorry,
I'm so sorry
That I can't write
Happy poems

Because I try to write them
To maybe
Cheer me up

But nothing comes out,
But ****** mistakes
And broken pieces


I'm sorry,
I'm so sorry
That I'm just not
Happy

Because I try to
Look on the bright side
And think about
The future

But I can't
When everything is
Falling apart
And I'm left here
Alone


But I promise that
I wish I could be happy
But I just
Can't

And trust me,
I've tried

-e.w.
Hi
I'm not sure how this works
Out, you and me,
All twiddling thumbs and
Awkward hair twirls unsure
How to properly
Spit
Out a greeting,

"Oh hello."

And what comes after,
And what should come after.

We try our best to
Veer away from each other,
Afraid that the other would
Smell the
Rancid blue cheeses on
Our tongue,

Or the cliches displayed for all to see,
Like spinach in our teeth.

So we nod.

Slowly.

Abruptly.

With chin up and hair
Tangled somewhere behind
Our ears,
Hopefully.

And ice breakers stale
In the backs
Of our jeans pockets.

Noses crinkling in
Silent prayer as to
Never have to ask the person

"Sooo, how's the weather" or

"Sooo, how much does a polar bear weigh?"

(Enough to break the ice, by the way.)

— The End —