Memory
The first boy that ever loved me is dead. He died last week.
He just died. No warning.
I remember perfectly that day in kindy when he kissed me, I was five.
I feel empty. Young. Surreal.
Solitude stands in the doorway, I'm struck once again by her black silhouette...
1 Comments:
Life has a weird way of flowingpast and through us.
Rock on.
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