little miss lucy west-- at
first i did not recognize
her name, but upon seeing
her face, i connect the dots
i previously had failed
to even notice
she's the younger sister
of a friend i don't speak
to anymore, and she used
to wave at me whenever
we crossed paths
i wonder if she still recalls
me sitting on her top bunk
bed and laughing, with a
pillow clutched to my chest
like a lifesaver, like gold
i sneak a few glances
behind me in the halls,
watching her subtly,
hesitating where i'm
meant to turn left and
disappear, but she doesn't
wave or call out as she
used to, and my
heart sinks
she probably
forgot my face,
just as i forgot
her name
YOU ARE READING
i wouldn't call it poetry
Poetrybasically, this is like less than half of my poetry journal. umm... here you go UPDATE: 12/20/17 I've been going through the long process of cleaning up my account so it'll be presentable for the now multiple people at school who want to read my emb...
