My hands rub against rough denim
Best I stick them in my pockets
My mouth goes dry again
I'll look cool I think
Maybe they won't be able to tell I'm a mess
My eyes dart up and then down
Secretly relieved your head is turned away
I look to my left
Help me
I beg with my eyes
He laughs and pushes my shoulder
A tilt of the head with sparkling eyes
With a mutter of traitor
I take a step forward
And another
And before I know it
You're there
You smell like cinnamon
It fills my head making me dizzy
Can people get high off perfume?
I take a deep breath
a blush rises to my cheeks
you ask what I need
A stuttered "w-water please"
A smile and then it's over
I walk back
hands shaking
Pockets lighter
And I shake my head at him
"Order yourself next time"
YOU ARE READING
Barely breathing
PoetryJust words that can't pass my lips but will go through my head until they fall onto paper. Every single one of these are my original pieces.
