Once again, I'm a stranger to this place. The long stretch of this road doesn't faze me, I've travelled longer distances and felt cruder surfaces. This air that I breathe has a different nostalgia, one backdropped with unfamiliarity. And I can't seem to connect the dots, it's only an obscured memory now. Because once you leave, you don't return.
YOU ARE READING
the blue and the solace
Puisia poetry, thoughts and an excerpts collection. - #8 in poetry - #2 in poem
