sometimes,
i miss strange things.
moments i thought had been long forgotten.
yet, somehow, i transport myself back
to that time, that place, that feeling
and it's as if the connection had never been lost.
as if somewhere, in a distant part of my mind,
i've still remained there. and i can't decide if that's
nostalgia or imprisonment.
the sun like to graze my skin so thoughtfully in the summer creating gold streaks of radiance all over my thighs and its warmth tickled me like the sour blackberries behind my grandmother's house that
{this piece is old-- i want spring & summer rn} this time of year sends my heart spiraling towards nostalgia. the powdered dusting of snow sweeping along the streets and beneath my shoes tugs at child