i sit and breathe
the world, becoming
shapeless
and i float
left to a whisper
scents of lobelia- soft
thoughts of you
like pressed flowers
between the pages of mind
beautifully preserved,
dead,
nonetheless
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
i sit and breathe
the world, becoming
shapeless
and i float
left to a whisper
scents of lobelia- soft
thoughts of you
like pressed flowers
between the pages of mind
beautifully preserved,
dead,
nonetheless
would you still be here
if i didn't pick your flowers?
