Something changed
Or has changed as
I slip off my dress
I am reborn in star
Light peppers the dark
Kiss me, I'm waiting.
Quiet disappointment
Embraces instead but it is
Okay because next time
I am getting braver
I was made to be seen
So see me.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
