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Not A Typo
I’m in love with you,
But I can’t say it out loud
Because our talks always end at hello.
I’m in love with us.
And our picturesque Pinterest wedding
That only lives in my mind.
How do I describe this love?
It’s probably just misdiagnosed
school-induced stress.
At least that’s what I’m hoping.
Don’t say anything.
I’m fixed now and my bandaged
Bullet holes have healed.
I latching on to every hello
Because even when I say I’m over you
His hello holds me close,
Closer than he’ll ever hold me.
I meant *than you’ll ever hold me.
He can’t know this is about him
So I’ll just keep my goodbye at hello.

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I'd like to think this piece eiptomizes my struggle with self-identity in my life, and how even to this day I am trying to come to terms with my identity as bisexual.