i grew up being forgotten.
a poem about leaving in the dead of night.
i have made a habit out of
leaving in the dead of night.
when morning arrives and i do not,
the people i’ve left ring me
to ask where i went.
i grew up being forgotten,
a poem about leaving in the dead of night.
i have made a habit out of
leaving in the dead of night.
when morning arrives and i do not,
the people i’ve left ring me
to ask where i went.
i grew up being forgotten,
--
writer | editor | poet | all things personal development ↠ alaynadoyal.com ♡
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