Walt, call my name.
Make your purpose clear.
She weighs too much for my being to bear
And binds my tongue with kite string
I struggle knowing analyzation is my personal analyzation.
She ignores and persists.
Walt, watch me thrive.
I will never close in.
My dim eyes follow along, listening.
Words that scream truth are but sweetly
murmured by her.
My insanity, woman, my tumor.
My sanctuary, Walt, my garden.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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