Blocked

Blocked. Blocking the hope of a text message. A chance to even get in my head more. Closed. Closing the sheets in my room so I don’t get a glimpse of you. Down. Keeping my head down as I walk into the room. So that my eyes don’t “ironically” find you. Cold. The chills I get when I walk past you. Lies. The foundation of our “relationship”.

Request permission to use this poem