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Reaching

  • Writer: Tabatha Jenkins
    Tabatha Jenkins
  • Apr 19, 2017
  • 1 min read

Fingers rested

so carelessly

on my hand,

yet I feel

the quaking 

contemplation.

Your eyes are

ticking. Your mind

is malfunctioning.

I can't manage

to think of

anything

besides the loud

friction caused

by your constant 

shaking legs.

I have never

been more

frustrated.

My mind is

blank even

though I can

see you're 

pleading.

My fingers

are no longer

still.

I don't want

to hold you

because I'm 

too afraid

to drop you.

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