Nine/first love

​So, I’m

back to the first love, 

back to same person who stood

strong through it all, back to 

feelings like this;

pastel sky, 

shining sun,

morning haze.

And this love, it doesn’t 

feel worn, doesn’t feel wrong, 

instead, it fits

like my favourite green sweater;

there’s enough of it

for me to feel comfortable, not

enough for me

to forget who owns it, not

enough to make me

forget the baggage that came with it,

but, right now,

the baggage doesn’t matter, since

I’m back to the first love, 

back to the

person who always 

felt a little bit like home.

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