She spent most her time sitting
not speaking nor scrolling through post after post
simply sitting
and she was perfectly content with this.
She sat and thought thoughts and imagined images
Scene after scene,
an endless movie reel.
Perfectly content.
As days were light, as was she
and on darker ones, heavy
days grew shorter and clouds and night alike grew darker
and she didn't know if she was content with this.
Grim and silent thoughts.
Dim and dark images.
A black and white movie reel.
She was no longer perfectly content.
Time continued and she just sat
nearly like a doll
simply still
and no longer content with this.
Thoughts empty.
Images blank.
A silent movie reel.
She would never be content again.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Lovely Girl
Poetry"All she ever wanted in life was for her and her thoughts to be described as lovely."
