He burned me twice.
Once:
with his harsh wintery breath
against the soft skin of my face
as if to scream the words
of some lover's quarrel.
Twice:
with the gentle touches of springtime
against the sensitive skin of my spine
as if to comfort me into waking once more
into a world much warmer than before.
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Once, We Lived | Poetry Collection Completed
PoetryA collection of poetry from the high-school years of an semi-angsty teen with too much time on her hands. This is an exploration of the different facets of life and the perceptions of a teen of the 2010s with a knack for words. Warning: contains con...
