Category: My Poetry
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small talk
i hate the serious conversations. the expression of feelings dew starts to collect within the corner of my eyes a lump that grows in my throat jaw clenched so tight it must be pried open why speak…when rather i could hide. i hate growing up. Read more
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A Boy That’s A Friend
You were never really my “boyfriend.” We were never official, but I saw you every week. We painted rocks, did puzzles, kept each other company on slow nights at work…kissed me after I told you that I loved you. Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly loved you or were you just great with your… Read more