Somewhere ahead of us, is a day, a certain pinpoint, where I won’t think of you, negative of positive. I can not know when that will be, because at the moment my name is a series of past lovers who are written all over my identity.
#73
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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