Everywhere I went you can spot subtile grey-faded fingerprints. The air will echo all those lines I have silently mumbled. And the night sky has absorbed and reflected all that was wondering in my mind. It’s waiting there for him to find it. It’s waiting there for him to realize he can’t just get away.
Published by Josephine
Semi-personal blog. Dutch and English poetry and stories that document my life. Sincerely believes in writing as a form of therapy. View all posts by Josephine