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You, my Love
I was 15 when I fell in love with you
And 17 when I admitted to myself that it wasn’t love
or like
or hate
It was in love.
I cried, I think
Because it hurt too much.
Because I was ashamed.
I knew nothing could ever change how I felt
No matter how much wrong you did by me.
I almost told you
Once
Or twice or a thousand times over,
But I couldn’t.
I knew nothing could ever change how you felt.
I hated myself for the things you made me feel
How much your unrequited love hurt
How many nights of sleep I lost to thinking about you.
I thought it brave when I confessed my love
To the silence of my empty room
But that was nothing
Because I couldn’t bear to tell you.
What if i had?
What if i had whispered it at dawn?
What would you have even said?
“I’m sorry.
I’m not your love song”
So I suppressed it
And repressed it
Until it all came back up again at night
Onto this white paper
In a poem titled “You, my love”
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