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g r a s s

home is where I felt with you laying on the pointed grass watching the clouds form to our thoughts of eachother and how the sun reached out and touched your skin because he wanted a part of you like I had a part of you like the way your laugh would echo in the mountains of my mind for days repeating endlessly like the sun-kissed freckles on your face that gave you that twist of innocence that you rarely showed to the world of people who all held daggers beneath you like blades of grass waiting for a shift in weight
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Written by
sydney-jeanne
American
Published
Mar 2, 2012
Lines·Words
27·101
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