#miss scuffed shoes and bruised knees and endless trees to climb

[petrichara]

Hmm thinking about old friends. I still do my lipstick the way you taught me, look for your face in every crowd, start to tell a story and feel your name die in my mouth. No amount of anger erases the way we hid in the trees as kids, how you’d run to the door hands full with my favourite sweets. Your smile is my picture of happiness, name the first I learned to write.