Of Life

I'm writing it out again
even though no words capture
the entirety of this... thing.
But I try it anyways
'cuz it's changed again.
My steps were easy and sure
before I learned you don't,
well, like me.
Cheesy. Cliche. Heartbreaking. Truth.
A teen girl's life has very few real rules
and they change and grow like her.
Mine is never to cry again
over some stupid XY.
I'm writing it out again
because it's shifted wierdways.
I'm not so bold now anymore.
I think my steps out
and have to catch myself
before I bat my eyes again
like a prissy eighties popular.
I'm writing it out again
because I'm not certain now.
You've stepped out of reach --
but I never could've reached you
in the beginning,

could I?





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