arctic
It was July when I met him, although his name was August.
I burned for him in the winter and I froze when summer came.
Do you regret me when the seasons come like I regret my running?
I never knew a winter like the one after I disappeared,
Forced to survive an arctic so severe that I was sure that I would perish.
I wonder if you think of me, too...and which emotions my face evokes inside your mind.
I'm sorry.
JE LEEST
your heart breaks forevermore
PoëzieA combination of both poetry and story-telling, I hope you all enjoy this collection as much as I enjoyed writing it. Poetry has always been an escape for me, whether it be based on something real or entirely fictional. I pray you all can escape int...
