sometimes
I can't tell the difference
between the sunlight
and the moonlight
but I drink it anyway
because that's what I'm supposed to do
but sometimes I stay the same
and nothing's changed
but sometimes I can turn
and smile when
I see feathery wings on my back
but sometimes I hear a familiar creak
before I fall
through the wooden trapdoor
beneath my feet.
YOU ARE READING
maybe i'm dreaming (COMPLETED)
Poetrya sky full of poems, none of which connect (stars without constellations) this is a compilation of almost every aspect of my life in poems, as well as some fictional elements too i hope you enjoy my cemetery of secrets -lowercase is intended for sty...
