Stormy Shoals: A Poetry Collection

You aren't her

I look at you hungrily 

during practice,

watching your hair bounce

and your feet dance.

I am crushing on you

and I think you know it --

you might like me too

and that makes me excited.

But then I remember 

my past relationship,

my first true love.

It still hurts,

the wound still fresh.

The wound created by a thousand smaller cuts.

I'm not sure how I can love again

like I loved her.

I like you,

but you're just not her.