little dark-haired angels,
running around and reaching out
to things that catch their brown eyes,
inherited from their father.
his car pulls in,
and they run into his arms.
he flashes that smile that i fell for,
and kisses each of their foreheads.
i snap out of it.
what the fuck am i doing?
YOU ARE READING
ampersand
Poetrya collection of trash poetry from a girl who tries to treat people with kindness although many have been unkind to her
