Poem 98


this is 25.

i flatter myself some days,

build my confidence with “i love you’s”

said by a beautiful reflection.

i have scratches, cuts, bruises, and wounds

which never disappears

but i am new, each and every day.

twenty and a five,

they mean very little to others

but to me, it was a goal.

i crash and i burn

and am reborn.

velajune / dearphil.anne @ IG


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