Her Type

Hello Weekenders,

Her Type

 

She stares into his eyes and says, “I love you, don’t you love me?”

He’s fixated on her, and he nods his head in a hypnosis linger.

His arm is bent behind his back; he has so many questions that won’t be answered.

She leaves him right where she always does; You can’t escape alcatraze, kid.

He wants her, she says the same, but words are as good as they’re said.

He’d follow her anywhere, even though, sh says don’t come to me; I’ll come to you.

Love is disobedient at times, and he goes to her place

She sits with another kid like him; hypnotized by the elegant glow of an angel.

Her arm wrapped around him in a way she never did with him.

He turns away, walks aways, and thinks, “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

He waits patiently where she left him.

Micah H.

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