look at me.

look at me.
oh god, why won’t you look at me?
i dreamt last night
that my words had wings that
carried you
was it to me?
it must have been further away.
still, i stay
and pray that you will
look at me.
oh god, why won’t you look at me?
if words have wings then
mine are three pigeons
flying in a a grey flock of
three thousand.
you can’t hear them squawk —
i lost them and now you won’t
look at me.
how can you hear something
that you can’t see?
oh god.
why
won’t
you
look
at
me?

© 2016 Stellular Scribe

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