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Isabella Watson May 2016
The irony of deafening silence in school hallways;
We sit parrellel, only staring at our shoes.
I hope to exchange some words, maybe finally tell you how i miss you.
I know that you are chasing other things, so I push the thought away.
Yet no matter how much I try to be okay by myself,
everytime you extend your hand to help me up, I know I'll take it
With our legs extended our feet almost touch

— The End —