Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Fresh, Salty Lysozyme

Have you ever spent time
Waiting for a message
You knew would never come
Spent nights in bed
Tossing and waking
Praying and wondering
What could possibly be said
A sharp pain begins to develop
In the center of my chest
As I slowly allow the realization to overcome me
Its over
There will be no more late night talking
No more joking
No more battles of wit
No more laughter
No more sharing worries
With the only person who seemed to care
No more reinventing our lives
Like wishful children
No one will be there
In whom I can confide
To speak of decisions
About the future so dear
To hear the concerns
And sooth them
No one will be there
To whom I can cry
As my tears spill over
And my mascara slowly runs down my cheeks
And onto my pillow now soaked in fresh salty water
No one will be there
And I don’t blame him
I blame me.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback