Poetry · Writing

tootsie roll

i walked a line

that was drawn for me

words were not my friend i found comfort in the arms of another

before the pen was my pillow

i needed you to find the center of a tootsie roll pop

i couldn’t rely on my own will

on my own path

on my own words

bleeding was just casual

love was always occasionally

direction was always running in after the bell rang on a monday morning with one shoe and no backpack;

 

always after the test was done-

always after the she found another-

always too late

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