In A Support Group

The room is silent and all eyes are on me.
My lips are parted, but no words pour forth.
I look around for moral support
and find her, smiling at me encouragingly,
Her eyes the most beautiful shade of brown.
“I-I’m unsure.” I begin,
And I’m shocked at the courage it takes.
My knees knock into each other
As I glance at her once again.
She nods with a small laugh,
“I feel the same way.”

And all of a sudden, she’s the only thing
In this God-forsaken sterile white room
With its shuttered windows and flickering lights
That I want to watch.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Her gorgeous smile, glossy hair
Confidence lingering in the air.
She’s fucking beautiful, like one of those cliches –
Sunlight on a rainy day, or a hurricane coming your way.
She makes me feel alive.

I’m not at all unsure, I look at her and I know.
She’s the kind of girl
I want to wrap myself around,
Press my lips against, and slam into the door.
I hold my breath while she speaks,
The courage within me flows.
“I think I might be,” I say,
And all eyes are on me once more.
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
Her eyes meet mine and I stare.
I know, I know, I know.
Her gaze makes me so certain,
But I may never share.

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An artist and writer taking life one day at a time, and hoping for the best.
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