This poem I've been told is "fresh." I originally was calling it "In Between" but how could I not resist changing it?? This is the first draft fyi; I wrote it last night. I felt compelled to write, I couldn't sleep, so I scribbled it on a piece of paper and just an hour ago, typed it up. As always, every poem is 100% original and like the seagull from Finding Nemo, it's "mine mine mine."
xo,
Ari
The end of day
when crying completes,
my red, sore, tired eyes
and cheeks pinked, puffy
feeling the sting—
sweet words
honest words
that cut at my heart.
My tears tonight
mark ending
overwhelming me,
consuming me
stuck between
grasping and open hands.
The middle—
an ending uncomfortable.
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