i remember the time you entered my life. it wasn't cliché or untimely, neither was it expected. like the soft beams of the apricot sun that peer through my window on cold december mornings, you came in slowly, bearing warmth and tenderness. even in the wintry air, you bloomed in my heart like lilacs and irises of spring. and although i've always preferred the crisp cold air over others, I can't wait to see what you'll bloom into under the summer sky.
YOU ARE READING
crimson
Poetry'here a seventeen year old with such a hurricane of emotions talks and rambles about her musings, and writes about lovers she hasn't met and heartbreaks she hasn't yet experienced,as well as others in its rawest state with the hopes that they may b...
