flowers bloom into your words,
like how poetry does to paper,
one single rose
is what i got first,
and then variations of wildflowers,
and giant lovely sunflowers,
your words stuck to my head,
like roots under the earth,
your flowers are lovely,
so i visit them (every night) often,
i water them carefully
with the tears in my eyes,
but it grew thorns i had no control,
i couldn't water them anymore,
because it only made it worse,
i couldn't visit
the garden of words,
i was stuck outside,
and watched as the flowers you gave,
turn into dust.
YOU ARE READING
confessions i will never say and other proses | poetry book 1 ✔
诗歌[ poetry and prose book 1 ] ❛❛and i admit to cheating by still hiding my feelings and getting away with it.❞ a small shelf of thoughts and proses for someone who isn't hers. (sidenote: come check out my other, most recent poetry and prose book: "a h...
