Wind blows
My hair whips
Grass in the field ripples
Fence divides the landscape
Trees ascend in a crooked forest edge
Gravel crunches under my hightops
Pink dashes across the horizon
The sun is leaving
I mess with the ring in my nose
Life at a standstill
A crossroads
I ache for a cigarette
Knowing I shouldn't
I must change
Leave parts of me behind
The bad parts
Those that make me ashamed
As the sun leaves golden glances as it departs
-alice
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland
PoetryShe wanders, lost in wonder. She falls in and falls out. Loses days and nights and friends. Bottles. Ashes. Echoes of laughter left in her wake. She is no one, without even a capital letter to her name. She is alice.
