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.
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