Strangers are just the familiar faces we see in our dreams
The creaking floorboards and the walks we take at dawn
The feeling of sand between our toes
Strangers are just the opportunities we never take
The doors we don't open and the windows we close
The feeling of loneliness on a Saturday night
Strangers are the friends whose faces we don't recognize anymore
Our reflection in the mirror
The feeling of pages stuck together
YOU ARE READING
Open Palms
PuisiA book of hopefully less angsty poems than my previous one, "From the Heart". Don't worry, they're still mostly sad. *** Je ne peux pas vivre sans toi
