Feb 2020
Flowers šŗ š sit on the windowsill
just waiting to die inside themselves
trying to bloom and bud but how can they when Iām yours?
Words fade as the breeze sweeps through bringing scents of jasmine, lilies and lilacs.
I listen to the sincerity play and echo in the background as the summer sun hits the light just right. I see you in this perfect light and I forget about the šŗ flowers and the seeping ā ļø poison keeping them alive.
As a man I let you inside and run and hide I could not it was only a matter of time before the flowers would die.
I knew the whole time I could never bloom for you.
just waiting to die inside themselves
trying to bloom and bud but how can they when Iām yours?
Words fade as the breeze sweeps through bringing scents of jasmine, lilies and lilacs.
I listen to the sincerity play and echo in the background as the summer sun hits the light just right. I see you in this perfect light and I forget about the šŗ flowers and the seeping ā ļø poison keeping them alive.
As a man I let you inside and run and hide I could not it was only a matter of time before the flowers would die.
I knew the whole time I could never bloom for you.
To this day i hate getting flowers
