Hold my hands, tonight, under those willows.
Kiss my freckles and that sweet part on my neck,
play with my hair in your lap and whisper
tales of love so unfortunate to my ears.
I promise you that those won't ever happen to us.
But I start to rethink things when you leave me
all alone, tommorrow, under those willows.
YOU ARE READING
Ashes to ashes
PoetryA collection of short poems about being a teenager in the modern world, losing parts of yourself to others and loving some with every cell in your body, realizing that sometimes you change but that doesn't mean the world changes too.
