Walking into her favorite book store didn't feel the same as it did 3 years ago with her best friend. Now she's reading out of a poetry book to the wall while strangers pass without even taking a glance. It's almost as if by herself she was invisible. She stayed talking to the wall like it could talk back, as if the cracks in the wallpaper were its ears listening to every word slipping out of her mouth. The small poetry section was all she read, and she reread them so many times it made her sad. You could never see though with her back facing everyone, she could pretend the small bookcase was more then Inanimate object. Three years ago she would of never gone anywhere without her ex but now all she needs is a good book and a wall.
YOU ARE READING
teenage fools
PoetryI write poetry about life, death, love, hurt, depression, and basically everything.
