A ride back home

What would have worked for me –

Is not the question I had asked,

Only in despair,

I would display that kind of misery.

Walls of sadness

Crumbles through my lips.

I’m quiet,

Poor attempt to dissemble.

I’m not a hero in my story

I’m a side lying character,

No one really notices.

A poverty ridden loner

Who didn’t even learn how to drive.

When I sit and look out

My eyes don’t wander

They are glued to a sight.

I appear from a distance

As if torn by time

But I’m intact

Nervously thinking

Whether to feel wind on my skin

Or shut the windows suddenly.

-knightess

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