some day

it is Thursday and Monday is near.

i grow anxious knowing
you will try and see me,
and i might see
my fear attaches to you.

stop trying to placate me
it’s just a matter of time;
i’ll spread my wings
and fly…

you cannot say anything
to satisfy, i like silence,
lost, i lose my way.
i know you feel obliged,      

some day.

 

Poetry

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