wicker dresser

as she pulled her screen door shut she remembered she forgot something.
she slipped off her tattered shoes with the worn in heels and ran barefoot up her cold wooden stairs. she opened the door to her dusty room and grabbed her innoncence off her cracked wicker dresser, she thought to herself, 'i still need this.'

young love was worse than heroin.

the thought of you with her is like a gut wrenching twist that has stolen my stability. at that point in time, the one we both remember, then and there was when i felt whole with you. only for that brief frame did I ever think that it would last.
you were a constant battle in my fragile yet panic stricken heart. i knew i needed out but the doors seemed dull and boring with jageded door knobs and broken locks.
young love was worse than heroin for my fragile frame.