By Simply Shelby
she's no plain jane
if you look past the freckles on her face
& the silky sheen of brunette hair
her toes curl on the hardwood floor,
the bed sheets still bunched about her feet.
she's still scared of yesterday-
or so says her messy, inky scrawl
on the pages of tomorrow's dawn.
she's perched on her windowsill,
watching the morning rising up
& the smell of bacon grease
makes her stomach growl.
she knows that beyond
the blinding, blaring sun
is a world she has forgotten
& is unseen by probing eyes
& for a moment, she wishes
she could stay there; maybe forever
but she smiles down at
the sleeping, unruly-haired boy
sprawled across her mattress
& finds she loves it here too much.