… it’s the third of May — messy hair, tucked pajamas, and a face of an almond-colored brow.
Let me come back to where I was used to when I thought I couldn’t find myself the moment you broke a part of me.
Let me come back to where I’ll forever stay — like a goodie-old kid doodling around the corners like I always do.
Let me come back to where I had myself first before anyone else.
Let me come back to the time where I’d just imagine that I haven’t met you, adored you and loved you enough — the time where I never expected to be hurt this way.