POEM| Baby

I never liked being called “baby”. A baby is a little human that needs someone else...

POEM| Seven Hundred & Eight Days

It’s been seven hundred and eight days
since I last heard from you
I wonder if you’re okay every day
and I still see you in my dreams

I shed a tear this morning
And it wasn't because I miss you
but because I was in a happy mood
after a long time of beating myself up