Behold the ponies in the field who neither sow, nor do they reap: they run with unabated zeal from dawn until they pause to sleep. They do not worry, fuss, nor fret that with a hand or two they'd yet become a horse, majestic steed, a noble beast of strength and speed that all admire. A pony's satisfied with sun for warmth and grass to eat, a stable's shelter when the sleet of winter falls, and one to ride them round the ring, through woods, to dappled meadows, fine and good.
lillies and lilacs violet and white the scent of sweetness makes it alright bitter sweetness coats my tongue vines creeping with blossoms twisting around the swing and there we sat just you and me your hand in mine for eternity
today, i looked outside the window HA did you think i’d go outside and destroy that beautiful scene my feet would have left a mess, my breathe would’ve moved the seeds no everything needs to stay in place like that painting um, something with lillies?
if my eyes could speak they would tell you how many battles i've lost. there's scars lining my thighs and wrists to prove it. they would tell you about my favorite books, how i feel about all time low, lillies, and you. if my eyes could speak, one look would say everything. about how my ghost is surrounding him in the distance, watching his every move, and how i feel some sort of rush when i cut myself shaving. if my eyes could speak, my mouth would have nothing to say.