I treat my mom like she is the creator of the universe, and that's sad because if she did create such beauty, I know she would have created me differently.
I used to daydream. Then I got scared I'd ruin the surprise for tomorrow.
It's hard to dream in color when you've only seen black and white. Everyone who taught me a new color isn't in my life anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Ineffable
PoetryA book of poetry by an amateur who is trying to get back into writing novels like I used to. This story will never be completed because this holds the words I needed to get out and will always be my poetic diary. Ignore my annotations, I want this t...
