Antsy

Spiders squirm
under my skin
and I am on fire.
It’s all I can do
not to jump up
and sprint through the door,
drive recklessly
towards an airport.
I’m hot and cold,
your voice echoing.
My fingers itch
to type a message
or write a letter.
I feel my brain
reining in my heart
because half of me
wants to run
and the other half
screams in foreign words
about responsibility
and adult decision-making.
I can hardly stand
that you are so close
yet the distance mine as well
be lightyears.
It hurts you
to be my friend
and it hurts me
to listen to your silence.
We can’t solve
these problems
without me making
a decision
to listen to my head
or to follow my heart.

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