angeleyes, ᴀʙʙᴀ, 01.52
i long to be
someone without you;
someone who is free,
and is not split in two.
i long to detach
myself from you and your pieces;
to place a silver latch
on the door of our reminiscences.
YOU ARE READING
[14] - monday's child.
Poetry𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴. original poetry i wrote at fourteen.
「 andromeda unbound. 」
angeleyes, ᴀʙʙᴀ, 01.52
i long to be
someone without you;
someone who is free,
and is not split in two.
i long to detach
myself from you and your pieces;
to place a silver latch
on the door of our reminiscences.