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Qynn
Poems
Sep 2017
short stream of consciousness brought on by the despair in that I don't know how to talk to you anymore
I no longer know
how to respond
to the messages you send me
I will tell you
that I love you as well
but when faced with casual chat
I freeze up
as if you're a stranger
asking me for a date
the words used to come to me
so freely, so easily
and now they are as sparse, as rare
as the emeralds in your eye sockets
distant, but there.
Written by
Qynn
23/F/Pittsburgh
(23/F/Pittsburgh)
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