Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

Bad Poetry

You wearing a dress and combat boots
With too many pins on her bag
You who dresses like it's 2016
Who can do nothing with her hair
You who hides in the library holed up like a fox in her den
Looking out the windows longing for something but paralyzed by indecision
You who sits in coffee shops
Who likes what drinking black says about you but goes for something sweet
You who craves love but prefers loneliness
Who drives everyone away because solitude is safer
You the girl who writes bad poetry