there are flowers in my lungs and you let them grow with your beauty and your ways of loving me and you helped me breathe through the worst times of my life at that point but when you left they wilted and they clouded my lungs with death and I wanted to die myself but I taught myself how to grow my own flowers and they thrived and they grew and they blossomed but then you came back and you tore me apart with your lies and I fought and fought and fought and I told you I didn't want you, I had my own sunshine now.
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Early Morning Scribbles
PoetryMy collection of poems, usually written in the early morning hours. (sometimes I'll make them at later times, haha)
