the bottom of the well
never looked right
and i knew it would hurt
to be trapped at the bottom
i never wanted to have
my lips sealed by the mere mention
of the name of the gal
of the one who has stolen my eyes
and taken the contents of my chest
off with her into the night.
i feel as a stranger
even among my friends
because now they all know
and i was one who did offend
i hate that i'm rhyming now,
i feel really immature,
because this wan't supposed to be a poem,
but a confession:
of how i've been living
in torture,
keeping a sour secret for one,
but now three, perhaps many,
are damaged,
and i'm still convinced of love.
i hate how i am feeling,
because this can only
come or go,
or worse
come and go,
and i don't want
to do either,
so someone
wish me luck.
please.
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