his actions make me angry.
he will not approach or look at me.
its as if i am a ghost.
a ghost that lives across the street.
a ghost that offered her umbrella in downpour and her extra gloves in blizzard conditions.
am i not good enough?
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YOU ARE READING
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Poetryan original poetry collection. it all began on 7.25.15 it was first published on 3.21.18 it all ended on . .
