she packs
her bags
slowly.
folding
the black
skirt. the white
blouse,
shoes. she's
leaving
again, or is
it coming.
there seems
to be no
difference
sometimes.
home is a
place
she visits.
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real
experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
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