The two left for the movies together.
Though she returned alone into the house where the silence sings.
She smashed down the mirror in front of her
In that empty house now lay two broken things.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoetrySometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
