Distractions: A Book of Poetry

Poems that I've written

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118. Again

It’s happening again, 
the desperate urge to write
and not knowing what to write
a poem
or a love letter
or maybe a mix of both
I’m not panicking
(yet),
but I am afraid
because I can hear them whispering again
I can feel their claws scratching at the walls
the walls that he helped me build
and he isn’t here right now
to send them away
He isn’t here right now
to save the day
so I guess I’m here alone
for now
dreaming of his face to be seen a week
from now
I’m trying to stay strong for him
right now
Because a few more days a fighting won’t kill me
when I know that he’s waiting
in a purple-lined hallway
and I know that soon I will be safe.

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