She was the girl you'd find sneaking in backstage with fake IDs and vodka in water bottles. She'd spend late nights in different bars drinking shots with every stranger, and making love in parking lots. You said you met her once in a library, her name is Tuesday. And you said she reminds you of a thundercloud with no rain. She has this captivating smile and eyes like daggers. You said the color of her hair was as wild as she was in bed. And you spent every day since then chasing her shadows in concerts, nightclubs, and a bottle of vodka.
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...
