I think my heart can see the future
one pang for yes,
two pangs for no
three pangs for try again later
or maybe
I wish you could feel
this little ball that sits in the middle of my chest
and expands
and contracts
and expands,
and keeps expanding
when I think of the way
you’ve made me feel
up until…
I have these words I want to say
but don’t quite know how to say them
because saying them
would be admitting
that I’m the only one
who feels them
and admitting that would be…
if we could go back in time,
three pangs,
two pangs,
until it almost doesn’t exist,
almost doesn’t…
it will always hurt
to know you are worth
less than a potential future
because distance is a scary place
where you would never venture,
two pangs,
two pangs,
two pangs,
but not really breaking,
so much as opening up
an old wound,
that never had time to heal—
more a crack that expands
in a crystal ball heart,
spiderwebs of glass,
without shatter,
a heart too broken
to be optimistic
about the future.

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