“There’s a part of me that I lost, and I don’t know how to get it back”
you thought. until on days you don’t expect when you do the things you used to which make you who you are. when the light shines in through the window and even if it’s cold the sun still feels warm on your face. when you dance on your own sing loud and the songs that run in your blood bubble up and you realize that the heat, the art, the bubbles are perfumed with the scent of the parts of you you thought you’d lost and like the end of winter, shoots of your self spring up again and you remember who you are.
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AuthorI write stories, but sometimes I write poetry about the slippery and crunchy moments in life. Archives
July 2023
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