Papers are strewn across

The floor

Empty bottles line

The windowsill

And the scent of cheap perfume mixes with

Cigarette smoke

 

She lays on her bed, the blankets on

The floor

Wishing she could live the life of the woman on the other side of

The windowsill

Instead of living in a drunken haze filled with broken dreams and

Cigarette smoke

Published by Jasmine Uitto