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The Memory I've Buried: A Poem

The Memory I've Buried
I Hate To Expose Him Like This But I Can't Take It Anymore
A plane.
A boy.
And a girl.
There's sense of longing to be near, But these hearts are craving two different things.
"Do you want to come sit by me?" No. Don't do it. Please.
Stupid girl.
What was supposed to be so innocent, A movie maybe, Or a shoulder to sleep on, Turned into something it never should have been.
Hands. Rough and commanding.
One-sided fear, Thousands of feet up in the air.

The memories come in flashes.
Lips trembling. Mixed signals. Heart pounding. A blanket hiding fingers That won't accept hesitation for an answer.
"I don't think..." (She was the only one thinking.)
No answer.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours? No. It couldn't have been.
Over. It's finally over. A rush of shame, Heat smothering her cheeks, A boy who hasn't registered that he's in the wrong. He's laid his head on her lap; She's trying to control her pan…

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