The world at 4:30 in the afternoon is a different one. Strange. Familiar.
And I commit to memory the touch of the wind on my face as I traverse through the streets of my hometown. 16 years I've lived here. And the placement of the houses and the trees doesn't seem to change at all. The neighbors may have aged, but the tender laughter of children riding their bicycles on the sidewalks and the rosy cheeks of smiling faces which readily greet you in the morning as you pass by, create an atmostphere of nostalgia towards something that has always existed but isn't always present in my mind.
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What Love Used To Look Like
Poetry"What Love Used To Look Like" is a collection of short prose, poems, and contemplations about love, hurt, disappointments, and brokenness anyone experiences or has experienced at least once in their short lives. The collection intends to show the di...
