it shows in the way you sing love songs with your eyes closed at a red light,
clenched fists beating on the steering wheel,
gasping for air when the lyric is over
it shows in the poetry that you read,
how you underline the parts that touch your heart,
how you feel that sense of relief with every word that you digest,
because you are not the only one
it shows in the apologies you give out so freely
every time you feel yourself being too much,
or when you panic
because you’ve been conditioned to believe
that you are just a subsidiary of life
it shows in the reluctancy
to open up to anyone new
because every time you do,
it ricochets right back at you
and the only one who ends up wounded is you
it shows in the way your heart drowns in your chest
every time you hear your name being called
because you are hoping to turn around and see him,
even though you know it won’t be
You probably wonder who I am reading all your works. I appreciate them. Maybe sometime in the future I’ll have the guts to tell you who I am. For now, I’ll wait for your next one.
Sincerely
B………..
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