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Sharing is caring... Or is it really?

Its all just words

No faces

No looks, no clothes, no smell

A simple connection

 

It could have been anybody

 

But it wasn’t

 

It started off as a hobby

Something to keep boredom at bay

 

By now you’re junior olympics... At least

 

It can be as flawless as beach glass

 

Or jagged

and farspread like the trees still dieing

 

I never know what to expect

Excitement

Misunderstanding

Seriousness

Interest

Laughter

Understanding

Awkwardness

Distracted

An idea

... Clearly I could continue

 

It’s like my little escape hole

A therapist that Actually understands and wants to

We just click

Alined by the sun

Some would say

 

But I dunno if that’s true

All I know is what I feel

 

Should I not feel what I feel?

Do I feel what I feel?

Is what I feel real?

Or is it fake

 

Is it a lie?

 

Or should I make it one

 

I don’t know what’s best

How can I

 

I’m new at this remember

 

All I know are the words of the known

Who are unknown to me in one world

And an empty chair in the next

 

I sit down and wait patiently

 

Until it’s finally my turn, here is where I’ll sit

 

There is no shame finding comfort in the little things the chair offers

Its smooth silky surface

The wine stain down the middle

the dots that resemble a smile in the corner

 

You don’t forget what you know so well

You open up your palm

 

A baby snake inside

 

He doesn't take it

He doesn't **** it on the spot

He doesn't grimace with disgust

He doesn't burst out in laughter

 

He picks it up

and cradles it in his hands

 

And sets it free

 

Back into the world where it belongs

 

And then he gives you a dalia

 

You take it and tuck it behind his ear as something to be admired

 

He blushes

 

He needs you too

Maybe

 

But its real

Almost too real

 

So you push it away

It’s impossible

It might not even be close to what you think it might be

 

Forget

 

And stay silent

 

Hey

 

We start again

 

A haha here

A smiley face too

 

Climbing up the uncertain mountain that has never been climbed before

 

The chance of falling high

But you like the chase

 

And for now

It’s enough

 

You don’t really care if you summit anyway

 

A possible “when”

always dangling

Inside the clouds

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Written by
sofia-von
25 / F
Published
Aug 27, 2012
Lines·Words
84·405
Permission

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