Skip to main content

maybe she shouldn't care
about the yet unread poem she wrote

her inner most fears displayed like a nude model on canvas
ready to be gawked upon
waiting for scrutiny, dissection

in view but out of reach
as he tucks it into his pocket

bared to him
dread settles into her bones


Popular posts from this blog

  whispered to the stars   ✨ countless names, -yet all the same   the ones we loved the ones we lost once upon a time   remembered, but forgotten they'll remain always     always the same