I grow out of the child-
a curious bud unfolding
its peculiar petals to become
a wistful bloom.
The child does not grow
out of me-
it stays there, planted
in the soil of my heart;
a reminiscent seed.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 6:40 PM UTC
I grow out of the child-
a curious bud unfolding
its peculiar petals to become
a wistful bloom.
The child does not grow
out of me-
it stays there, planted
in the soil of my heart;
a reminiscent seed.
I hate feeling like I can't be a child anymore. I want to think that the child inside will not grow out of me.
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