two marbles blinked and stared, marveling at the wondrous visions inside her mind. the arches of her brows, so frail - so concise - furrowed like a busy caterpillar longing for metamorphosis. a shimmering wheat field of strands caressed her jawline so graciously, wild and free just like her soul; *wanderlust for an eternity
this isn't a ******* poem this is unnecessary swearing this is holding my breath over bridges, and broken pinky promises and hearts. this isn't a poem this is free falling into fog, waking up with knotted hair and wondering what you're thinking about in the morning this isn't a poem this is what it's like to not have a perfect ending