blog · prose poetry

-road trip

I remember those road trips to the countryside. Those trips to the mall when my mother will buy me dolls. Worry-free life. Carefree. Fragments of my childhood. Before I became a viper of tangled mess, of knots so tight, with threads that needed unraveling, no one knows where they would lead. I wanted to be undone, and simply shrink back to my child self, so uncomplicated and too naive to ever know

a.m degamo

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