that monday lunchtime.
he's texted her for the past week
(he wouldn't text me if i was ill like her)
she's in again today.
i'm leaning against the goal post on the field.
he's talking to me, but keeps glancing over my shoulder.
finally, she arrives.
they're holding each other's hands, swinging them around gently.
literally half a metre in front of me.
something inside me snaps.
there's a physical pain in my stomach, and my chest, and my head, and-
"you okay?" someone calls from across the field.
"yeah," i smile.
no.
i'm not.
YOU ARE READING
him.
Poetryno name was mentioned but you thought of someone, didn't you? ...i definitely did. i think i always will.
