gabriellerose

Tufts of rusted coils fortified by the lacquer of

 one dollar hair gel stolen from the aisles.

The contours of its shape pregnant with defiance,

groaning with the murmurs of the wind.

My words stiled and stalled

Our bus is stuck in traffic
and I’m late for lunch with my grandpa
because his silence makes me feel a little bit less lonely
in a world where it's easier to forget 
the deaths of old friends, the day’s list of tragedies.

What lies beyond her eyes?

Well, no one knows what she dreams and thinks.

Every grin and every glance is a guise

in the depths of cyberspace, as she sinks

into the battles raging within