My feet pointed westward
As I rose
From the rolling comforts
Of your bed
Like the needle of a compass
Guiding me home
Through thick forests
Of your shaggy carpeting
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Morning Time
My feet pointed westward
As I rose
From the rolling comforts
Of your bed
Like the needle of a compass
Guiding me home
Through thick forests
Of your shaggy carpeting
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