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Pressed Flowers

Poetry

We are flowers under pressure, shoved into books and told to behave. These juices that flow from my petals end up onto paper, and they are presented to you. These pressed flowers are my childhood, my teenage years, and my life. They are my battle sc...

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Perfect World

10 1 1

by slytherindipity

by slytherindipity

I'm stuck

in this all-consuming,

profound

daydream of a world.

And these parasitic thoughts

are slowly,

but surely,

sucking away at my consciousness.

I don't hate the way it feels.

In fact,

It's almost addicting.

I create the reality

in my mind.

I'm in control there;

I live, and I laugh,

and I experience

my wildest,

fanfiction,

wattpad dreams in there.

Out in reality,

I don't know who I am

or where I'm going.

People don't confess their undying love to me,

and we don't live happily ever after.

It's different,

and strange.

It's sad,

and lonely.

I don't know where I stand here,

so I sit in my mind,

and get lost in my perfect world.