
When I trace the sunset to your door.
When I lose the moon, to find it in your eyes.
When my thoughts and memories scrawled onto a single paper, melt away;
Folded, flying, falling.
We were planes, lost to the ocean.
Isaac Olajos
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Published by isaacolajos
Born in 1993. A student at McMaster University. I run a creative writing blog called ThinkWords.org, check it out! Talk to me about adventure, food, travel, music, science, opinions, or anything to get my mind running and you will have won me over.
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