Looking Back

Poetry Project #12

When I hear your voice,

My body tingles.

If I had the choice,

You would not be single.

Pick me up– I’ll be your date,

Every Friday night.

This emptiness I really hate,

I hate you more with every sight.

When we pass each other,

You only see right through me.

I’d look back– my hate I’d smother,

If you would look back too.

~November 3, 2000 (age 17)


  I only remember writing this about a boy that I crushed on my senior year of high school but I am not sure if it’s this surfer boy I liked a lot or this boy that played the guitar in a goth band.  My tastes in the opposite sex has never been discriminatory.  I think, though, the bitterness I felt for my “crush” not being reciprocated is, unfortunately, not at all uncommon.

In case you were wondering: I hooked up with both boys eventually (at separate times).


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