My mother says that we are like flowers.
Look at me
look at my colours so vibrant
how my fragrance so sweet
how I fill your eyes with beauty
and your soul with hope,
is what she says, my mother.
she says we are like flowers
perhaps one day a lover will look at us
and pick us to gift to another
that is the end for that flower
You see
the flower didn't know it would be picked
by a lover
the flower
up until that point
went with life, a nice cool breeze lets it
sway in its place. One day
the next some rain falls and washes the flower
then comes that one day
that unforeseen day
where the flower gets picked.
And that is the end for that flower.
Is what she says. My mother
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
I want for us to look at the stars together
and see them as glistening
speckles of light
placed by god for you and I
to marvel at.
For you to look at me
as a creation
I am not a product
of a generic process.
I am not
a product of logic.
Understand that you will never understand me
because to understand me
is to liken me
but I am nothing like you've ever known
So if you must love me
love me
with all of your being
If you must,
then love me violently,
but remember I am fragile still
so let your soul
speak to mine first.
I can promise to fill your heart so much
that it pressures from inside your chest
But I'll dial it back
because I wouldn't hurt you
Just know that's how far
I'd go
For you.
E.M
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 4:10 AM UTC
but the amount of people out there
that once put their whole being
on their sleeve for
someone
and in the turn of a second
they become a stranger
a stranger yet
not at all
because they now have knowledge of
your soul
of your heart
of your body
what a beautifully awful thing
to know that you are being carried
in someones repertoire
of beings.
E.M.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 6:48 AM UTC