This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Oxford Emory chapter.
My eyes twist
back
Fall down the stairs
into the deepest
wishing well
praying
to see you again
Your words
wrap around
my waist
arms that
take me back
lips
they taste
like home.
My poeticism brought you here
Brought your fingers through
my hair
Brought your breath on my
neck.
But it’s my words–
They’re why you left.
How could this be,
You are not warm anymore.
You are not home anymore.
Take your hands off of me
Untangle yourself from my
World
Like my curly hair
Under the warm shower
Crawl into the drain
There’s no need for you
anyway.
The lipstick
glosses off my
Too pink lips.
This girl is anew.
And no,
She does not need you.