planting the seed. 2 p.m., july, zearing

Thu, 06/04/2020 - 10:27 -- caseyrb

the first time it happened

i wasn't used to it yet

i dragged my feet horizontally 

placing bricks over tears:

emotional mortar

mind over matter.

neither one of us saw the weather report.

you called it teenage moping

as if i didn't have a bullet

inscribed sixteen-year-old girl

curdling in my stomach already

This poem is about: 
Me

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