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dana-marie-andraPoems
Others have relationships. I have infatuations. Pale-skinned blonds with kind faces attract me. Joan was one of these. I went after her and found she was as nice as she looked. But someone else had gotten there first. It depressed me. I refused to forget about her. I walked past her apartment door hoping she'd come out. The door had a number 13 on it. I knew she was behind it...doing things. Living. She never came out. I saw her once in the laundry room. She was with her boyfriend but she said "hi" to me. I later found out she'd gotten married and had two kids. Why'd she have to go and do a thing like that?
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Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
Behind a Door
Others have relationships. I have infatuations. Pale-skinned blonds with kind faces attract me. Joan was one of these. I went after her and found she was as nice as she looked. But someone else had gotten there first. It depressed me. I refused to forget about her. I walked past her apartment door hoping she'd come out. The door had a number 13 on it. I knew she was behind it...doing things. Living. She never came out. I saw her once in the laundry room. She was with her boyfriend but she said "hi" to me. I later found out she'd gotten married and had two kids. Why'd she have to go and do a thing like that?
Written by
dana-marie-andra
F/American
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
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