At 3:32 precisely, I noticed Kaitlyn striding confidently past the Wok House. She saw me the moment I raised my hand, flashed her very white and newly straightened teeth at me, and headed over.
She wore knee length charcoal coat that fit perfectly and sunglasses that dominated her face. She pushed them up onto the top of her head as She leaned down to hug me.
"Darling," she said, vaguely British. "How are you?" People didn't find the accent odd or off-putting. Kaitlyn just happened to be an extremely sophisticated twenty-five-year-old British socialite stuck inside a sixteen-year-old body in Indianapolis.
Everyone accepted it.
(This is a blackout poem I did for school, it's page 42 of The Fault In Our Stars by John Green.)
-Ariah Chriatman
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Poetry Journal
Poesia* A long poetry collection written based on life events and emotions I've had. I'm not the best writer, but I hope you enjoy.
