She walks the streets, searching for warmth from the snow and wind. Before, it was for money, then just for the drugs. Now, she doesn't know what she does it for.
As a car passes by her, she hides her face. Before, she'd show her leg, lift her skirt a bit, be enticing. Now, she doesn't want to show anything.
She steps inside a corner store, warmth warming her bones. For a moment, she's okay.
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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...
