She stands
behind a pane
of broken glass.
Yet, to her,
the window
is crystal clear.
I stand
juxtaposed to her,
smiling, waving.
I take a step
she stops me.
"You can't,
it's glass."
I reply.
"But you
can hear me."
She shakes her head.
"You're not allowed."
So I sit down,
Pushing shards away.
Wrapping my hands
in my shirt.
She opens up,
I hear the saddest,
the sweetest,
the loneliest stories.
She's alone.
No one approaches.
Not even a brush of skin.
"I'm here for you!"
I say. I run to her.
"No!" She says.
"You can't cross."
-EPS
YOU ARE READING
What I Forgot to Say
PoetryHigh school. Nostalgia. Love. Heartache. Thrill. All are words we know, but maybe the words fail to come and describe how you feel. Let this collection of poems be those words, those feelings. These poems are supposed to make you feel something, no...
