here i lay in midst of a field
a field of lilies and i lay still
so very still that i start blooming
blooming with lilies that silently kill
I'm made into sweet honey
smells the sweet scent of death
death swallows me in the night
and dusk to dawn i write my will
my will to live visits me here
at my tomb up the hill
moths above my stomach fly
as he gently caresses my soil
came to say hello to me
and to life said goodbye
he brought with a single lilly he cut
and so we kept laying still
YOU ARE READING
s h a d o w e n t r o p y
Poetrysome byproducts of my mental health state. abstract and surreal some stories some real paintings and illusions mostly with a creepy feel i think there must be like a few love poems too? idk tw: (some direct some not) mentions of death, blood, burnin...
