Broken tongues

The pretty girls
always make me feel lonely.
The way they smile
between the people
and bring hairs
to stand on end
in that cool
shiver of nervousness.
I’m a blank face
as I look to the floor,
ashamed for no reason
like a thought that’s not there,
just the bravery of holding back
being the lie
that convinces me not to try.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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