Little
Little small-town stories
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hannahdycus
hannahdycusJo. 16 years old. I write poems.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
A poem about a small town and a lost love.

Little

by hannahdycus

my love for him was just like my town

small, unimportant, boring, almost nonexistent.

the only difference was my town

existed all on its own. if i was to leave, it would stay here and thrive.

if i was to leave him, however,

the love between us would disappear, forgotten by both parties.

i grew up there.

walked barefoot down the hot pavement all the way to the lake,

where i spent my afternoons,

every afternoon.

drove ten miles down deserted roads

bordered by cornfields to get a gallon of milk from the nearest grocery store.

it wasn’t a sad life, per se.

just a lonely one.

i didn’t grow up with him

i met him in the seventh grade.

nice enough, nothing exciting.

he dated all my friends but also stuck with the story that he loved me.

i believed him, i guess, but never took him seriously.

when he finally got me to date him, two years later,

it was fun, i guess, but not very serious

at least on my end.

i left him just like i left that town.

quickly, without explanation,

going to someplace better. with better people,

there was no guilt involved in the process.

and i missed him like i missed that town.

that is to say, not at all.

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