Like your favourite worn out jumper,
You were me still,
Keeping me close.
Sleaves filled with holes that are placed
Into constellation of memories.
Coffee Stains from early morning
Painted upon breaking sleaves
Hood strings that have frayed
Transformed into locks of cotton hair.
Yet your caring intentions
cradle me into a void of tranquillity.
YOU ARE READING
An extract from a book i'll never write | Poetry |
PoetryJust a lonely teenager in love, struggeling with emotions and wanting the end to come sooner rather than later :( i want to love but i just dont want to hurt them if i love one then i will hurt the other. So please forgive me, i can't hold back my...
