Her head spins as her nerves shake. Through clenched teeth, she shivers like she's cold, but she isn't. She's terrified.
She uses big words, and she talks a big game, but if we really had to analyze her, she's a wimp. One small thing triggers her, and it knocks down her defences like they were made out of lime green jello. She's out of commission for weeks.
It'll take her months to rebuild her spine.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 3
Poetrythird poem collection. they aren't in any particular order or anything like that, and after 100, there will always be a new one. if you've been here a while, I'm sure you know the drill. now, about the cover. it was a random Thursday, and an old fri...
