I despised the walls in which I spent nearly every hour of everyday for two whole years, but now the finality of it all is sinking in and I'm oh so upset that I won't return.
We were two badly crack porcelain dolls, who found comfort in men we could not freely express our appreciation to. I found happiness within more than one of the severly sleep deprived figures stumbling throughout the teal lined halls // We silently worshipped you, did you care to notice?//
And I miss feeling the gaps between your muscles on your lower back and pressing my head against your chest and I was so pleased that you accepted me, although I didn't take part in any of your classes. And as soon as I made my way through the doors of hell once more, into the gleaming sunbeams I found yet another, whom I felt was part of me in a more significant way than his role in the school implies I should.
He lifted me slightly and I felt something odd stretch across my face and I felt something odd catch fire in my heart and I realize I had taken my days for granted. //I should've told you that you were my favorite.//
And finally, I crept around for our final hours together, hidden in your shadow and tracing the outline of your body with my fingers as you spoke with someone who didn't care about you nearly as much as I did ((and still do.)) I watched you beam as she entered the room and all I could do was go and embrace her so that I too, could be in your field of view. I felt the need to thank you but you're just so hard to approach, and you have no idea that you make me cry //you kept my secrets under your skin// I saw you stroll carelessly down the sidewalk with your elbow brace close to your chest and I opened my arms and smiled and burnt the inner walls of my lungs and waited and all you did was grasp my hand and say goodbye, I've been nothing to you this entire time and I hate you for not feeling anything more for me. All I wanted was a final goodbye, no words exchanged, no pain.
//I expect you all to visit me in my dreams//
YOU ARE READING
Requins
PoetrySome words thrown together, forming something along the lines of poetry.