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When the birds stop chirping and I stopped dancing at certain songs, would you have noticed? But what do I care whether you take notes of things or not? Why should I care whether you remember about me or not?
The sunflowers are my favorite flowers. They're bright as if they're outspoken. Standing tall with their roots and green, green leaves; swaying to a beat. Special. Beautiful. You make me feel like a dandelion and you promised me, you'd water our garden daily. You wanted to take care of me. But what do I care? Why should I care?
Eventually, the birds will be tired every morning and afternoon and the songs that make me want to get out of bed will be what's keeping me in one. You'll go on your own way after leaving every petal drowning. Sprinkler's left on. I am left too.
🖊 I don't want to attract this.
YOU ARE READING
Through the Tears
PoetryR A N D O M W R I T I N G S || best to be read while it's raining or you're having a pretty bad day just so you'd feel worse orrr when you're having a pretty good day and you want to keep it that way.
