Dewy grass in the morning
sun and I'm laying in it with
you.
The flowers in the weeds
seem much happier than we
are.
The roses have wilted in our
hearts and our love's soil is
no good.
Just say that you love me
If not truthfully then just
for me.
Patience is insanity. Love is
destruction. But after all of this
thinking and loving
you're
still my only. And I beg
you, my love, don't
just
make me wait for such
an exciting,
beautiful chaos.
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
Dewy grass in the morning
sun and I'm laying in it with
you.
The flowers in the weeds
seem much happier than we
are.
The roses have wilted in our
hearts and our love's soil is
no good.
Just say that you love me
If not truthfully then just
for me.
Patience is insanity. Love is
destruction. But after all of this
thinking and loving
you're
still my only. And I beg
you, my love, don't
just
make me wait for such
an exciting,
beautiful chaos.
A poem inspired by E. Hopkins.
j.a
