Perhaps one day, when I am older,
I will look at who I am today-
A scrawny girl
with her hands balled up so tight
That there are crescent-shaped depressions
in the palms of her hands
(She will be standing leagues behind me)
And I will run, run to her
with my dying strength
I'll offer my condolences,
And give withering flowers to my own ghost.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
Perhaps one day, when I am older,
I will look at who I am today-
A scrawny girl
with her hands balled up so tight
That there are crescent-shaped depressions
in the palms of her hands
(She will be standing leagues behind me)
And I will run, run to her
with my dying strength
I'll offer my condolences,
And give withering flowers to my own ghost.
Things won't be quite as terrible anymore
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