we almost brought it alive.
a flower, an icicle, a child?
what will be, will be.
it matters not what is deserved.
we brought the microcosm down
with thundering applause.
and in thinking of everyone else's salvation,
we never considered our own.
the mirror looks back once,
looks back twice,
then forgets you were ever there.
in the bouquet of roses was a daffodil.
it was the one that cut you,
and i regretted the purchase.
of all the boys you procured,
it was me that cut you.
and i regret the purchase.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC
we almost brought it alive.
a flower, an icicle, a child?
what will be, will be.
it matters not what is deserved.
we brought the microcosm down
with thundering applause.
and in thinking of everyone else's salvation,
we never considered our own.
the mirror looks back once,
looks back twice,
then forgets you were ever there.
in the bouquet of roses was a daffodil.
it was the one that cut you,
and i regretted the purchase.
of all the boys you procured,
it was me that cut you.
and i regret the purchase.
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