September 25, 2022

 

Dear ghost,

To be loved like that. Loved so it hurts. So it burns. To be held like that. Held so that it's warm. So it's safe. To be kissed like that. Kissed so it melts. So it aches. If only there was such love.


it's morning again. No matter how much I close my eyes and live another life, the sun still rises. As my crooked eyes squint at the sun and watch the cracked sky through the trees, once again I live. But dear I am scared. So scared of what's ahead.




Your willow

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