Jul 2017
i scraped my knees in the
realms of time
i don't know where to hide
under the willow tree
to find and harvest
the new moon
a cracked ceiling blinks
with long lashes
my long lost friend is
still ice cold
it is not yet spring

greet my reflection if
i go too long
without smiling

a transparent person
it looks a lot like
I turn my weird dreams into weird poetry.
Written by
Silverflame  21/F/Denmark
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