The house was cold and dark
she lay alone
in her bed
thoughts jumbled together
in her mind
a picture on the nightstand
quiets the ache
that always seems to find her
in the dark
and when she dreams
she dreams of arms wrapped tightly around her
she dreams of contentment
of no longer needing the picture on her nightstand
she dreams of something tangible and real
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Good Girl: A Poetry Collection
PoetryPoetry from my life written between ages 16 and the present.
