plucking the life out of eccentric flowers has been my habit these days. as one petal falls to its misery, another gushes away from me as the prismatic mirage reflecting on the river's surface follows them to the path to nowhere. my doom stares cast a shadow over the last standing petal, then the words they love me not cascade out of my lips as i watched it stay afloat. restless and lost.
𑁍 raeminiscence ˚⁎⁺
YOU ARE READING
A Flowerbed for Romantics
PoetryThe chattering of canaries beneath the cumulus clouds' silhouettes call nature out to breathe once more for I am here, laying above verdant grasses. I carry the heart of a romantic; the art of loving enwreathes itself around my worn out heart. For e...
