Slowly, slowly, I slow to the door.
The wooden door that leads me to a mundane life that I spent so long running away from.
The wooden door that leads me to a comfortable life that I spent so long protesting against.
The wooden door that leads me to a happy ending that I was too occupied to consider.
YOU ARE READING
HIM
Poetry[Highest: #994 in poetry lol] He's exotic and eccentric. The way he speaks, the way he moves: so gracefully but also so carelessly. As is the way his spirit is childish and interesting but aged and mundane. He's a mystery I'm starting to get hooked...
