It's a good thing I learned how to use my imagination when I was small.
Little me didn't know the thrills of dark mornings and fingertips,
So tangled in my sheets,
Stained with salt water,
Gliding my fingers cross my chest.
It doesn't feel like you anymore,
But if I close my eyes....
Come home.
Would you?
YOU ARE READING
16 Ways To Live ❤
PoetryPoetry. Is. Expression. This is my life. This is my story. This is my heart. This is a short compilation of vignettes, poems, and free thought. A recap for myself of my past year, but a way for you to see into my life, and hopefully identify with me...
