rusting metal bleachers
20 teenagers sitting atop them
the rest of us file along
casting congratulatory
glances and
knowing sadness
for what this night means.
you sat on the end
and your eyes glistened
with memories
of friday nights
and rainy saturdays
and years of love
contained in a few months.
you took my hand
and my heart
and told me
the words that you never said
the ones i could never say
the ones you didn't mean
the way i did
i love you
i wanted to rip my arm away
or grab your face and kiss you
but i laughed
in the humid
october night
and i said it back
with as little meaning as i could muster
afraid that if i let myself speak
id talk
and talk
and talk
and tell you every word
i wish i'd said
YOU ARE READING
n o n s e n s e
Poesíaa collection of nonsense poems that mean a lot to me, and nothing to most.
