I want to feel the way I did last July.
I want to love the way I did in December.
I want to be twelve again,
Sitting on the couch,
Crying in my hands
Because I didn't really want to die.
I just wanted to love.
I want to be sick the way I was back in November,
When I was tired and sad,
But I held my soul close to my heart
And told my friends I loved them.
I want to be my favorite version of myself again.
YOU ARE READING
poetry
PoésieI'm a new writer and I put a bunch of my poems into one story. they do not connect to each other.
