Nobody Gives Flowers to Lonely Girls

Butterflies and Sandals

And while she reads her book of poetry
She imagines every line
Every poem
To be a story of her life
Remembering
Reminiscing
The love unrequited
Love won and love lost
Love unspoken
Love untrue
She finished her book
With tears in her eyes
Yet
She never let them flow
She spends the next hour
Fantasizing
About a happier love
But
That is just what it is
A fantasy.

x atlantakarenina

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