The old lady that lives across from my backyard is out early to play in her flowers. She spends a good part of each day bending over them. I can’t imagine what she does with them for that long

She waves sometimes and I wave back. She probably thinks I am the crazy girl that sits in front of her laptop all morning. Probably wondering what I do here for so long

I just smoke my cigarettes and wait to regret that the sun turned my face to leather. I play with my dirt and try to make something pretty grow and stand on it’s own

I wonder if she looks over and thinks of her wasted youth spent dreaming




Author: The Unamused Muse

You know me better than I do.

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