i went back, you know. why did i do that? the steps were exhausting. i keep turning around looking for you and i'm slowly going insane. the utter thought of you hurts and i wish i had kissed you here.
the shutter of my camera brings looks from the other tourists surrounding me. i stand on the grate and look down. i don't jump this time. it doesn't seem as high. i slowly work my way to the left. the deteriorating metal of that ring tapped against the bulletproof window as i snapped a polaroid of what i saw from over your shoulder.
i'm sick of that feeling that you'll never want me. i turn around and start back down.
the staircase, it seems infinite, and i wish i could say the same about what i think we have.
YOU ARE READING
ampersand
Poetrya collection of trash poetry from a girl who tries to treat people with kindness although many have been unkind to her
