Skeletons in your closet
You blink your eyes open.
Your room is dark, and loneliness is a unfortunate tryst with reality.
You sit up in your bed. Your hair are frizzy and messed up. You are tired, and sick to death. Your bureau is littered with meds. One of your slippers is upturned. You sigh.
You look out of the window.
There is a woman standing outside.
Your room is dark, and loneliness is a unfortunate tryst with reality.
You sit up in your bed. Your hair are frizzy and messed up. You are tired, and sick to death. Your bureau is littered with meds. One of your slippers is upturned. You sigh.
You look out of the window.
There is a woman standing outside.