Twenty-seven words for tears,
Do you think there are even that many?
Do you think they'd sound beautiful together?
Like you'd swallow your pride and speak them,
And an ocean would pour out?Twenty-seven words for tears,
And I can't even think of two.Like jewels in closed palms,
Could you drop each one into my hands?Give me your twenty-seven words,
And I'll lay them all in a line
like carefully counted roses.
Beautiful as the day is long,
But lethal all the same.(this was inspired by the book White Oleander while she was staying with Claire).
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Butterflies come flying out [poetry]
PoetryThe words of a teenage girl with too many emotions and no other form of catharsis.