I worry for her.
I'm attached, but so is she.
I leave, she texts "I miss you".
It was cute.
But she's not okay.
She worries me.
She says things.
She means them.
She really does.
I panic,
I really do.
I can't leave her,
I worry she'll do it.
I sit in class and try to breathe.
She is leaving, she's going home.
This is good.
Her family loves her, very much.
I worry, but I worry less when she's home.
She facetimes me the whole time she's gone.
She visits on Friday.
I'd do anything for her.
YOU ARE READING
Her. (rough draft)
PoetryThis author has gone through the most brutal breakup she's ever endured, she needs an outlet. Enjoy