The Johnny Green

Conversation: An original Poem

Aubrey Ouderkirk, Staff Poet

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we talk,
& words sting my skin,
i scream back.
my lungs can’t breathe in,
& the whole world stops.

we don’t talk.
& laying at night,
my heart screams at me.
i can’t yell back,
& my words eat me alive.

-which is worse?

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