Desires feeding our souls
Gnawing and eating our flesh, until we're a vulnerable flush red
Our pores exude the confident strife
A conflict that should have never arrived
To resurface our skin, bring back the childhood mind
I still see the eight-year-old awkwardness,
holding a staple makeshift poetry book and pen
The young struggling mind, when dying was simple to find
Daily I walk into the aroma of the sunlight
Intricately snipping roses off their vines, soaking in their beauty as my fingers sting and bleed
A decade incomplete
She never stopped being a victim long enough to realize her heart was revitalized, made into an equal whole
A rose petals thirst satisfied
No insignificant being
She was now a family
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
Desires feeding our souls
Gnawing and eating our flesh, until we're a vulnerable flush red
Our pores exude the confident strife
A conflict that should have never arrived
To resurface our skin, bring back the childhood mind
I still see the eight-year-old awkwardness,
holding a staple makeshift poetry book and pen
The young struggling mind, when dying was simple to find
Daily I walk into the aroma of the sunlight
Intricately snipping roses off their vines, soaking in their beauty as my fingers sting and bleed
A decade incomplete
She never stopped being a victim long enough to realize her heart was revitalized, made into an equal whole
A rose petals thirst satisfied
No insignificant being
She was now a family
