She wants to leave
I'd follow her anywhere, so of course I agree.
We walk back to the dorm. It's not far.
"I can see people," she says.
I laugh, that makes no sense.
"I can see people for what they really are, I can see their personalities. The orange girl? She's fruity."
I ask what I look like
"Cute"
I look at her and say, "That's not a personality trait"
She shrugs, "You're just bright. It kind of hurts to look at you. You shine."
I laugh again.
She makes no fucking sense.
But I love her.
YOU ARE READING
Her. (rough draft)
PoetryThis author has gone through the most brutal breakup she's ever endured, she needs an outlet. Enjoy
