more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.

Little Lights

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How likely was it, how would I have guessed
Any of the things that happened after you kissed me;
that one time in the middle of the street in the middle of the night.
It was like in that moment some invisible cord tied us together.
And I knew your thoughts, and you knew mine,
and we talked about serious things over milkshakes,
And slept contented in our comfort of one another.

Hardly seems fair, does it?
To go from that to this, to month-long silences and second guessing.
To fall asleep with a burning chest, snuggled in misery like a blanket.
When we don’t know, or won’t admit, whether the cord was frayed or cut;
Not that it would matter now.

Strange to hear the echoes of my mental cries in the silence
And to feel a whole new range of emotion more powerfully
Than the way your fingers ran through my hair, or down my cheek.
Those things were tangible and they’re gone and in a way,
I’m gone.

Insomnia, staring out the window at the darkest part of night,
Stars sparkling like tiny glowing lanterns,
Night lights for the broken-hearted

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Author: hairlikehoney

A girl. With thoughts. That are weird. And random. Who can be bribed with bacon cheese fries. Who figured out how to bleed bad thoughts onto a page and then let them go.

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