Flowers dry up when there not impressed with themselves. Withering back down below depths of uncertainty. Prompting joy that shouldn't exist. Commenting on a bigger structure that is not from within. It's around them. Circumventing proudly for all to see. If you aren't impressed with yourself. Then how will you bloom again for all to see?
Flowers hide themselves when they feel they aren't good enough. Everyone hides themselves behind there own blooming effect.
Withering flower; you neglected to water me.
Over-watered self; I'm drowning in jealousy.
Your roots is your foundation
Stand onto your roots
Believe in your your self, get rid of boundaries... Try to stand onto yourself and your knowledge, as I am also trying to.
the sparks in mind's
chamber waned away
leaving words scattered
yet the wordsmith stayed
still, rough lips tightly shut
as dry eyes wandered in
a journey to oblivion,
as they went through
another void nightfall,
in a desolate sanctuary.
after months of being dead.
I am not feeling okay
The thoughts that were at bay
Are starting to weigh
Heavy on my mind
Heavy on my heart.
My thoughts start to sway
Guiding me astray
Pieces of me
Start to fall away
I am starting to breakaway;
My mind frays
As my thoughts start to play,
my hands start to pray
And my words start to blow away
the people I hold so dear.
I will defray
But for now I am going to splay
my ache into words.
i am trying to spread my wings
i am trying to heal in a place that isn’t good for healing
i am not healthy
i am not healing
i am sick
i am withering away
and i am trying to fix myself for you
but it is not working
and for that
i am sorry
when i write it is about you.
her words are where her heart is,
her eyes focused on ahead,
for the delicate petal has lost its stem,
running to find,
running to search,
however nothing seems to be there,
and the petal withers away.
The cold in the air I feel crawl on my flesh
The spite in your tone when you hiss at me with new complaints
The way your body says you hate me
Is enough to show me that I'm still needed
Loveless sound that motivates me to wither
Thank you, my dear leech
If it wasn't for you,
I could feel alive again
Thank you for ******* me dry.
At my wits end grasping your vanishing portrait.
Reminiscing the golden time,
Circuitously projecting a chasm of flowers.
Drenching myself your reverberating voices.
Afraid to succumb to the neurotic state I'm in.
These precious memories I relentlessly hold,
Withering itself in a rapid surge.
A natural part of human experience,
Unluckily driven by such eccentric decease.
A repercussion of this chosen dalliance.
You're a phenom that came in like a storm.
Allowed me to love you, now I let you abhor.
Fallaciously believed in dandelion wishes,
A superstition created as stimulus of hope.
But it's too late to stop me, says Amnesia.
Remember me! Remember me!
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