I don't want to read about perfect people,
In their perfect houses,
Living their perfect lives.
I want to read the truth,
I want to hurt with them and love with them and feel the weight of their mistakes.
After a long day of existence,
I want to open a book and transport to another world,
Not to be perfect,
But to have the privilege of existing twice in one day.
YOU ARE READING
Golden days
Poetry"She was free in her wildness, she was a wanderess, a drop of free water, she belonged to no man and to no city." -------------------------------------------- Let me show you the beauty in the world, Let me show you the stars in your veins, Let me...
