Page 12 - Demo

9
Spring
Amanda Alvarado
You color to recolor what was already there. When you cry, you melt the ground and color it there. When it falls, you retrace it to where it once was. You come to accept things and make them belong. You sleep a while and don’t last long.
You forget what you usually do,
To do the things you ought to,
But, then, you forget that, too.
You should have the freedom to just be you.