you run towards methree words[he likes me]i plaster on a fake grinturn on my too-high pitched laughand retreat within myselfmy heart crumbles like cha..
i can feel myselfi stare at the shelfstaring shockedat the clockfeel myself going numbripping a sliver of skinfrom my thumbfeel tear slidingdown my fa..
the songmy heartis singingis loud, cheery and happyis sad, sorry and forlornis sweet, laughing and beautifulis bitter, screeching and brokenis victori..
a fresh piece of papercomparison to a flowerwords flow out of her handlike water out of a canher soul mingles with her wordsand the worldscry with her..