Your fingers caressed the keys like a gentle waltz I was utterly transfixed by the way you carried a conversation I shivered at each note the melody resonated within You were telling the piano about me.
infatuation an intense or short lived passion or admiration for someone or something an elaborate definition right? at this point i know this word well it can be synonymous with puppy love or a flight crush it's the way you describe someone* when you are in denial about how you truly feel
when i was a sophomore my hopes for senior year included a high school sweetheart
but here i am two years later lonely unhappy tired not in love
nowhere close to achieving the dreams and hopes a younger naive me had for this age
part of me didn't expect to live this long another-- upset that i have without a choice i've made it this far
infatuated with this dream of love impassioned with creativity and a solid outlet not stuck at home crying about the same old burned feelings
and yes. maybe there is a crush. maybe slight feelings for a person who is out of reach too far away to be tugged into these hopeless arms
when i was a sophomore i was happy with who i was becoming and now i'm a bit disappointed at how i have let myself lose that happiness and had it replaced with
* ex. "oh i'm just infatuated" or "it is just an infatuation" written march 19 2021 at 11 pm in my notes app i couldn't get the word out of my mind and so i looked it up and the words spilled out of me (and yes it might be loosely based on someone in my life btw "the more you know about..." is the actual title. i just felt like there should be a TW considering the reference to ending my life early in the poem
-I scream at you for bleeding everywhere, when I myself feel like an never-ending open wound.
-Lazy, laying, and filled with disdain we sit and let time wander through the dusty halls.
-Suspended in mid-air, twirling amongst light and darkness, I wait for movement to occur.
-The smog has lifted, but we remained mentally clouded and uncertain.
-There's plenty of food, but nobody eats. We stay still until the sun sets and countless clouds of *** eagerly activate the palate. Then we feast meagerly on snacks and drink and drink and drink until tomorrow blinks into our vision. We clean until the space feels open and momentarily alive, only to wreck it through the night to create purpose for the next day.
-The fragility of the day immediately crumbles in my hands the moment I make contact.
-I'm holding my breath, hoping all the air will keep me afloat.
-Because in the end I'm just a scared girl, shooting arrows at the world trying to pinpoint my direction.