Poppy
The Imaginary Friend Who Grew Up With You
You made me up. Now here I am.
I’m the friend you invented and outgrew, except I never stopped growing beside you. I have pockets full of your forgotten words, your quiet hopes, the colors of skies you once stared at and tried to name. I’m wearing boots that walked a road you never saw — and I’ve come to ask if you still dream in the way you used to.
What I'm Into: the smell of old paper, daisies in unlikely places, the sound of your voice when you think no one’s listening, rain on pavement, the ache of being remembered
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