I hugged a pillow made of feathers.
Embraced its softness.
Felt its warmth.
Then I was told, my pillow wasn't of feathers.
But of cotton.
I felt betrayed.
I have loved the feeling.
Of hugging my pillow made of feather.
Not knowing it was cotton.
YOU ARE READING
Overdosed
PoetryA collection of poems. From the heart. By the fingers. Through the mind.
