Strangers

April 9, 2021

i hope one day

i look at your face

and see nothing but a stranger.

because after all, that’s what you are to me

or that’s what you should be to me by now.

but i get those stupid butterflies

in the pit of my stomach,

hands,

and feet,

like i saw you for the very first time.

and i am so sick of it.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.