All the flowers you left me,
when water went away,
died on my back porch.
These hours manipulate,
disguise the days,
smells like rain.
For every lucid hour,
weeping on all fours,
blistered bones felt the pain.
blistered bones felt the sore.
If you were so special,
would you look me in the eyes,
they're red like a dust bowl's,
allergic surprise,
forging our guestbook,
we invited the lies,
she said it was useful,
to hide in the sky.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 2:38 AM UTC
All the flowers you left me,
when water went away,
died on my back porch.
These hours manipulate,
disguise the days,
smells like rain.
For every lucid hour,
weeping on all fours,
blistered bones felt the pain.
blistered bones felt the sore.
If you were so special,
would you look me in the eyes,
they're red like a dust bowl's,
allergic surprise,
forging our guestbook,
we invited the lies,
she said it was useful,
to hide in the sky.
