Head Down


I’ve gotten used to walking with my head down. Afraid someone will actually take their time and see beyond my facial features. Afraid someone will see beyond my perfect giggles and my forcefully projected smile. See I’ve gotten used to talking with my head down. Afraid you’ll look into my eyes and know that its still about you. Afraid that you’ll see that those curse words I say really mean I love you. That the first time I let you inside me really meant don’t hurt me I’m beside you. I’ve gotten used to crying with my head down. Watching every tear drop I let go resembling words I was too weak to speak, too prideful to give. Carrying that burden too heavy to place down. Watching every step I take hoping one of them will bring me back to start where we first met and I’ll some how be closer to you. Mentally I’ve gotten used to laughing with my head down. Embarrassed to express happiness created by hypocritical memories. How selfish. You see, I’ve gotten used to walking with my head down. Wishing I could close my eyes and pretend this never happened. But my eyes are open. And I’m wide awake. So now I’ve learned to walk with my head held high no longer afraid, watching or rather embarrassed. But living. Waiting to be noticed. I too, have a story to tell.

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