Summer rolls around,
and we treat ourselves better.
Full of old heat and dust,
finding jumbled numbers,
lost in our bedroom drawers,
interwoven through our fingers,
that were a year or so too late.
And now accepting the narrative,
that we control,
our own soft, rough hands,
that shape every new day.
Knowing that we deserve better,
than the one before.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
Summer rolls around,
and we treat ourselves better.
Full of old heat and dust,
finding jumbled numbers,
lost in our bedroom drawers,
interwoven through our fingers,
that were a year or so too late.
And now accepting the narrative,
that we control,
our own soft, rough hands,
that shape every new day.
Knowing that we deserve better,
than the one before.
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