October 13, 2010
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Somehow, as if unsure of when to arrive,
My tears dry up,
A mirage.
Leaving my eyes bare and confused,
Unsure of how to feel
If not upset.
Staring into the frozen space beyond your shoulder,
And listening to the cold words
Above my forehead.
Not knowing i am below,
Directly below.
Words dripping
Neon and burning
Into my clenched palm.

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alanacarlene said...
Oct. 27, 2010 at 3:19 pm
Ouch....yeah I hate how people do that! You just wanna walk up to them and say "uh here I am yeah I can hear you" or "why don't you just say it to my face you coward" because that's what they're being to you: a coward. Great poem! Very heartfelt
ishabitforming This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jan. 1, 2011 at 5:27 pm
Thank you! I feel like this is something everyone understands.
alanacarlene replied...
Jan. 1, 2011 at 6:02 pm
Definately! I hav a friend that sits between these two girls that pass notes to eachother and they talk about her in the notes and she's actually passing the notes to and frow and i just wanna smack em with their notes!
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