She walks into an
Almost pitch black kitchen.
Her feet pull her to the back door.
Her fingers locking it,
Naturally.
Don't want the freaks
Getting in...
Her eyes scan the dark and sad
Backyard.
Her hand twitches,
Water filling her eyes,
Daring to fall.
She lets out a laugh.
Then she turns her head
Behind her a bit
And says
"I'm going to cry."
To no one.
YOU ARE READING
Plain Jane
PuisiWhy are you so plain? Hmm? Plain, you're plain. 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧 Poetry by yours truly.
