On a November night, a late drive back home, my mother proceeded to spell out to me “All The Dangers” that would happen to me once I... had autonomy.
By Brianna Arnold6 years ago in Poets
Ah, age 17...your body knows itself but doesn’t. The revolution is finally here, but it has yet to make change And all the world’s theater is closing its curtains.
How do I remember him? Why did he flee? The ladies circled about him just so their bodies wouldn’t be disposed, but I was different.