Crying In Her Car
By birksy
Crying in her car, the morning mist still rests above the grass, she’s trapped, and her world is getting smaller. Bleak seems no lesser word, where is there left to run, the world has new eyes everywhere. Caught up in the safety net, perhaps it’d be better if she’d hit the ground, there wouldn’t be these tears anymore. Tissues erase the physical, but no mental tissues exist, for what’s going on inside, tonight, when she returns, she’ll cry once again. Written January 9th, 2002 © on Jan 08 2002 08:27 PM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 1
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"Crying in her car, the morning..."