the first
his eyes swim with watercolor
and his lips stutter its
confusions.
i tell him
i must leave,
because he has hurt me too much,
and although my chest hurts
with the intensity of it,
our love was an eccentric kind of
love,
and i cannot bear it anymore.
my shoulders already ache
with the weight of a million words
unspoken.
and it torches his gaze
slowly,
but surely,
and my heartstrings pull
when i see his hurt,
but i have to turn away.
the sun went dark that day,
and i sat on the edge of my bed
and furrowed my brow.
i could feel a spring of hope
and loss
and love
in my hands;
i picked up a pencil
and paper
and a flower
and i wrote a story
of a girl and boy
who loved but
could not love,
in words that unraveled and weaved
a poem
all at once:
my heart fluttered like a fifteen year old girl's when she kisses her first-ever love,
and i knew
the words that had poured from my mind to my fingertips
were refined
fragments of my soul,
and i felt
like pure gold.
—lana
YOU ARE READING
A Girl Grows
Poetry❝ only the moon remembers her now. ❞ the journey of a growing girl, manifested in the words of a book. copyright all rights reserved. may have references/details to mature themes. recommended age; 13 or older. may be triggering. reader discretio...
