The light on the ceiling reflects my bedroom distorted, round-shaped and contained within a globe-

This has been my world

This bed, my fortress of pillows and sad songs and words written in cursive

and feelings for new lips I’ve never felt before…

If you could see me now, what would you think?

Would you laugh at all the tragedy with me?

You always did.

You loved my storms.

Categories Creative Writing, PoetryTags , , , ,

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