An Average Night

Blank.

Nothing. 

Just fine.

Peachy keen.

Him.

Him.

His face.

His eyes.

His cheeks.

His mouth.

His smile.

His laugh.

His perfect teeth.

His slouched posture.

His chest.

His hands. 

His tummy.

The butterflies in mine.

My feelings for him.

His feelings for me.

"He doesn't love me."

Heart ache. 

Spiraling.

Sadness. 

Spiraling.

I'm shaking.

Spiraling.

I'm hyperventilating.

Spiraling.

I'm crying.

Spiraling.

Sobbing into my pillow.

Spiraling.

He's sleeping just fine.

Spiraling.

I'm screaming at myself. 

Spiraling.

Spiraling.

Spiraling.

...

Blank.

Nothing. 

Nothing is fine.

This poem is about: 
Me

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