What Would I Say to Her? | Poem

It feels strange, the feeling to know someone;
Building the anxious bloodstream amid chaos
With a teaspoon of relief blended on obsessions.
I see her everyday, she seems different each week,
Wearing simple attires that fit perfect on her curvy body,
Shining a lipstick that refuse to smudge when she bits a bun;
I know, Deathra, nothing will feel heaven if I tell her my heart.
Then, again, pain comes screaming, only lord knows what;
Tearing my desires and feelings to say on my poker face,
Stay away, Shobo, nobody seeks to know a broken soul,
Yet, you’re anxious to write for years, sleep for another life;
I guess I’ve said my months of miseries of loneliness.  

© sjwordsmith

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