There she stands, behind the bathroom door.
Tears run down her freckled face.
She turned to her left to find her reflection staring right back at her.
It questioned: "Why are you crying? You're braver than that."
But sometimes, tears fall spontaneously without it letting you know.
Its just that heavy, dreadful feeling inside,
tied like stones on your feet pulling you down in the deep sea.
There she stands behind the bathroom door.
Wondering when will she ever come out and face the reality.
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Nice To Meet You.
PoetryA collection of my personal thoughts in short, creative poetry. Written and illustrated by me!
