There's no prologue or epilogue,
just one cut so short it's almost cruel.
Im holding you again, and for the first time i can breathe.
Im back in my own body.
I can see and hold your face in my own two hands again, and i can feel my eyes memorizing every freckle and eyelashes while a cry tightens in my throat.
-
I forgot the color of your eyes
YOU ARE READING
Bitter
PoetryFor when my thoughts get too bitter for my own head - Not chronological and probably only feels emotional to me. But #idc
