that pretty red dressstill hangs in my closetmaybe i should burn itthey'll still think i'm dishonestthe dress smells of sweatof tears and of feareach ..
age is just a numberhis voice rung in my earas my body quiveredparalyzed in feari was mature for my agehad a body unlike a childdid i not trust him he..
i once knew a girli've still not forgotten her nameshe looked just like a paintingher golden hair was her framefreckles dotted her cheekswith brown ey..
the leaves begin to falleach a darker shade of redthey wander by my windowrotting until deadlooking so prettyhanging from their treebut their hands le..
brown eyesfilled with laughter and pridehis only vulnerabilitythe only way to his mindthe way they squint when he's happylooking empty when he's upset..
across the streetburns a light i once knewthe way in flickers at dawnas the shy turns to bluescratches on the postsome of which mineletters we carvedt..