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10.22.13

By Abby OConnerPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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The 13th. I forgot this day.

A week and two days.

So is this what it feels like to be wanted?

But why can I already see the end?

I’m not saying I want to...

I’m not sure...

You do so much. And get nothing back.

The 13th. It all changed just like that.

Our lips press together and we laugh in the end.

Skin touches the soft cotton sheets while I gaze out the window.

He wants you. All of you.

But why do I keep thinking of failure?

love poems
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About the Creator

Abby OConner

Always had a love for writing and thinking deep.

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