December Pain
By the end of most nights
she looks like a window pane in December,
foggy, blurry-faced,
peeling shadows, whispers of light
stretching out the seams,
window pain.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Us Gray: Part 2
Poetry(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!) Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief. Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew. This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand nar...
