[Note: NOT written by me, I copied it from a book but forgot the poet’s name.]
tears begin to flood my face like a cup left under a
running faucet well after the water has reached the rim,
my heart leaping to my throat,
My throat contracting around the emotions that threathen
to leap up and out of my lips,
My hands quiver as I reach up to blot the tiny teardrops,
leaving footprints down my cheeks.
The path that awaits me,
suddenly seem like a pilgrimage.
I see you. (I see her)
I smile. (she leaves)
You ask how I am. (I lie)
I reply that I’m fine. (Even though my heart has just crept into my mouth and is jumping up and down my tongue like an Olympic diver waiting to hit the water.)
I wanted to say that I miss you,
let you know that every moment I’m awake I think of you.
I want you to know that I miss your arms,
your lips. [writer’s note: errrr, whatever]
I want you to know that (I’m incomplete)
my body hurt,
my soul bleeds.
I ask how you are (hoping that you will tell me what I want to hear)
you reply, (your answer not including you miss me, that you miss my arms, my lips, my touch.)
my eyes attempt to strip you down to your soul.
they got lost, (but finding their way back into reality when they graze over the [ever-fading] hickey, just above the shirt she bought you.)
My heart leaps off the end of my tongue,
wanting you to see the way you have hurt me
wanting you to hurt the same way.
It falls to the ground. (She calls you.)
You hastily said goodbye (as you trotted over to her)
my vulnerable, fallen heart (not even pausing long enough to scratch if off your shoe like a discarded piece of gum.)
she wraps her arms around your neck,
brings her lips to yours… (your ears turn red [writer’s note: are we talking about Hermione and Ron here?])
people pass, as if I don’t even exist, (I want to cry scream and shout.)
I want someone to find my heart,
bring it back,
piece it together.
I turn away,
hoping that one day, it won’t hurt (as much)
and hoping that I will be able to call ou
and have you come over to me,
and be able to buy you shirts that match your eyes (and leave that tell-tale hickey, just above the collar)
and will still be able to make your ears turn red from the friction of our lips. [WN: o_o]
I walk away,
knowing my heart will not follow.