Target

Seventeen.

First job.

A boy named "Percy"

Or so his name tag said.

Months went by. 

Text message after text message.

Snapchat after Snapchat. 

Dating.

Dating.

Dating. 

Summer ends.

Freshman year of college begins.

Sadness.

Bitterness.

Resentfulness. 

I want to break up with you.

Please, no.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I don't feel the same anymore. 

I don't know what I want.

I don't know what I'm doing with my life. 

I want you.

Dating. 

Dating.

Dating.

I don't want you. 

I don't know what to do. 

Indecisiveness.

One year. 

Four months.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

It's not you.

I love you.

It's me.

I love you. 

 

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me

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