Lovelace is adjusting the
Gold plated badge fixed
Over his heart
His gaze holds no sympathy
For the girl-not-girl
Here, in the grand house
With roses on the
Curtains
And blush colored flowers
Dripping from the tables
The pallor of this family of
Dolls
Does not alarm him
But the cracks in the girl-not-girl's
Porcelain
Bring a
Grimace
To his weathered face.
One of the buttons on her
high waisted jeans is undone
And her voice shakes
When she speaks
But among her blatant disrepair
Is something subtle
Strength
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poesía{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
