Home alone, I wander through the house to the bathroom.
I turn and lock the door behind me. I only lock the door if I want privacy or I'm hiding.
There's no one to be private from. And there's nothing left to hide from. Except myself.
Originally published 14th February 2015
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The little things
PoetryThis is compilation of little poetry things. Highest in poetry (what's hot) #52 #8 in poetry undiscovered/up and coming Contains strong language. © all rights reserved If you find these poems have been copied or translated without my permission or c...
