It slips in softly,
slightly weighs down the floor,
something almost mine,
sweeping me off my feet.
But first the mirror speaks,
humming through the breeze:
“you´ve left before”.
Yet you’re still here.
New person, same old me.
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 4:17 PM UTC
It slips in softly,
slightly weighs down the floor,
something almost mine,
sweeping me off my feet.
But first the mirror speaks,
humming through the breeze:
“you´ve left before”.
Yet you’re still here.
New person, same old me.