little moments of happy are scattered like Sunflowers
amongst the suffocating gray of my mondays
heartbeats are swirled like star-clouds, yours and mine are
bleeding through the darks of the Starry Night
how did Van Gogh know what you were like?
YOU ARE READING
poems from the darkroom
PoetryI can't always say how I feel, but collecting poems from the corners of my brain and the millions of half-full notebooks makes me feel a little better. I hope you can relate to them, or at least be distracted from life for a moment :)
