come back to the way it used to be done,
come back to when the present was just dreams,
the addictive quality of nostalgia runs,
deep into the blood to tear apart the inseams.
come back to the life that makes sense now til infinity,
come back to the experiences that are regretfully missed,
why can't our world be the desires of our infancy,
abusing the senses is one way to avoid reality's plot twists.
YOU ARE READING
urban fairytales
Poetryit's easier to believe magic doesn't exist so we don't feel guilty for being too stupid to see it (c) daisyology / kandutchie This poem book is completed.
