Fluttering

Poet Rummager

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Treacherous is the heart that tells tales.

No matter how much you hush it, it always gives you away.

Boorishly fluttering in your rib cage each time he’s near.

When he leans so close, how could he not hear?

Trying not to meet his eyes; afraid of what’s written inside.

Don’t find me out; it’s not my heart pounding —

just indigestion from having eaten my true feelings.

Read a short story of an ugly girl who finds her dark and twisted beauty by clicking

↪️ ↪️ ↪️ ↪️ ↪️ ↪️ ↪️ HERE ↩️ ↩️ ↩️ ↩️ ↩️ ↩️ ↩️

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