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Unfinished.

Where should I begin the unhinged tangled story,

Should I be the protagonist or the villain.

Or should I narrate the story of Hawk and Tim,

How they were in love & I was just a short chapter in their epic story,

How I lived through Hawks colluding sexual identity,

Or How I supported Tim’s journey out the closet. 


Should I begin with the lies I learned, 

Or Should I share how the love lost again?


Perhaps, I should begin with apologies,

For I walked by Tim until Hawk caught a glimpse of me

I was loyal to our friendship until Hawk made eyes at me,

We were young, dump and rather tortured by our stagnant endearings.

Lost in our mind and hung up on realities.


Tim was always in love with hawk, only to be caught in his fear of identity, 

I walked in when winter came by, closer then ever they stood in false reality,

I was just a passerby, an insignificant letter to their unrequited tales of love. 


Until the sand castle came down with waves,

Desires, Friendship and love caught off guard,

With sand left at the beach of life,

We got washed away, farther than ever. 


And the story remains unfinished, as the villain never wins,

Of what seemed like almost a story written by Thomas Mallon. 

Pritha Krishna

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