my past.
skirts and lots of pink,
hair in a tight knot,
clear skin.
always smiling,
but blind to the
issues of the world.
she thought she knew
who she would be, but plans change, and so did she.
my present.
jeans and long sleeves and bracelets,
far too much hair,
bumpy skin covered in makeup.
smiling and laughing often,
but not always meaning it.
just a cover up.
she thinks she knows where she's going, but her mind always changes, like the tide.
my future.
unclear, unknown.
no one knows where
my life is headed,
and that's a beautiful thing.
my path, if you will, has not yet
been made.
my story, mind you, has not yet been written.
a blank canvas.
YOU ARE READING
desolation
Poetrydes·o·la·tion ˌdesəˈlāSH(ə)n/ noun a state of complete emptiness or destruction. anguished misery or loneliness. just a book of my inner thoughts, feelings, and observations TRIGGER WARNING: may include eating disorders, self harm, alcoholism, suici...
