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Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
you tell yourself
that you don't love him
you will not
in any way whatsoever
spend a moment more vying
for his attention
for his affection
or whatever
you call it
the jokes before during after class
how you are afraid to touch him
maybe he has some
and can feel
that you are dying yearning straining
for a moment in his limelight
to be even a blip
in his timeline
a moment in a lifetime
you wonder if he can feel your love through your glances
when he walks next to you
time prances
a sugar spun web of
you never thought
a word
could sound so cruel
and bittersweet
like spiderwebs spun
through heart strings.
you know he won't
has said
has scraped his foot awkwardly as you
no spewed
your affections
in a barrage of desperation
of losing
of love
wouldn't it be easier
if you were like him?
able to see the world
the girls who hurt him
in a different light?
one that wouldn't
keep you up at night?
his hurt
is a questions you forgot to ask
you will do it tomorrow
joking before class.
the same patterns
picking away
on your heart strings
sadly. teenage drama. makes good fodder for poetry even as i know that in ten years i'll laugh. and maybe fix my punctuation.

— The End —