He lives at the end of a culda sac
pumpkin spice latte in June
way too early
but not too soon
did I realize I was away from you
my yoga mat is drenched
with tears of the last user
unorganize your religion
because it is choking me
of unreasonable judge
YOU ARE READING
Mumblings of someone who is trying to start their own life
PoetryA passive journey, if you will. A childhood room with limited space. It is still decorated with all of her things. Nothing changes. She returned to what it was. A shut door with little to no sunlight. Mostly no sunlight. She lives on the weekends wi...
