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1 a.m. in the Afternoon

1-am-in-the-afternoon

There are too many words that don’t fit on to this paper.

Too many lies I have to tell others for their benefit.

Too many speeches I cannot say because of their effect.

But if I have to be honest, you still send me spiraling.

I’ve never seen anyone that is so capable of making the light turn off around me.

I can still feel your arm around my wrist. I can still feel my body against a brick wall.

Maybe this is too much for you. Maybe it was always too much for me.

Innocence escaped the second you decided to claim me.

I don’t remember a whole lot of joy, but I remember every second of fear.Every second of wanting nothing more than to escape.

My first love. My first moment of feeling like the breath that had built itself safely in my lungs had finally escaped.

Knowing how it feels to be slammed by deception over, and over again.

This is not a confession, this is a confrontation.

This is all of the days I wanted to break a window, and get away from the suffocation of loving you. This is all of the nights I spent wondering how to map out an escape route. This is all of the times your fingers became shackles around my freedom.

Maybe this poem wasn’t what you were expecting. Well, neither was I.