A melancholic pallor lining her face
She stood in the doorway
Beating the shit out of that old rug
As though it had done to her
What lovers had done
Again and again.
A carousel of liars
Spinning round and round
But the day wasn't yet over
And there was still much cleaning to do.
The rug never stood a chance.
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
