Hortense

She's bored, don't fake an interesting life, say how you were adored, when they let you remain, you cried for days inside, washed shirts in the rain, now you talk without pause, make sudden tinkled chimes, she's heard those tales before, a missive suddenly contains, all she deems wise, her coat hangs on nails, left as an afterthought, gone on the tide, slipped away untaught, you barely knocked her door, regrets don't ask why, emotions too poor, to understand your lies.