By Jane Rain
Date: 2014 Aug 15
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Not enough Prozac in the world...

In a haze of hopefulness and doubt
I find myself even lonelier after talking to him.
It reminds me of what I had and what I'm missing
and how badly I want that back.

Some guy made his silly face at me,
the one with the huge frown
(which I could never emulate)
and the raised eyebrows.
My stomach leapt into my throat.
It was the right face
on the wrong guy.

He's made me bipolar in a sense.
One minute I'm so angry at him
for all the break-ups
for leaving me with nothing (quite literally)
for negating so many promises.
And the next minute
I just want him.
It's as simple and as complicated as that.
As us.