At the end of the day
My love for you is weightless; like a feather
It's shared between your lips
And the press of your fingertips
To the top of my temple
And the tip of my chin
It's carried through the garden
Grown from overindulgent love
Engraved within the soil
Held together by vines and flower petals
Which whisper back for you; only you to hear
I love you.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoetryA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
