Strangers
are the closest companions.
You take a shot
and I let it go.
You say I’m pretty
and I let it go.
Will we meet again?
I don’t know.
Strangers
are the closest companions.
You take a shot
and I let it go.
You say I’m pretty
and I let it go.
Will we meet again?
I don’t know.
crying over a simple email
the lasts build a lump in my throat
last time beaming onstage
signing yearbooks
wearing a stiff blue skirt
One girl’s lanky frame against the dark turf field,
lit up by fluorescent lights
She saunters toward the building
holding another girl’s hand
The screen stares back at me:
9:30 pm,
an unfinished assignment,
a deadline due.
My weary chest heaves a heavy breath.
Comments
This is so true!
Yay I'm grateful that someone understands how I feel!
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