i was trying to hold on
but my thoughts were
an umbrella turned
inside out from the wind.
i pulled so hard but
the air had memorized
my flight and knew
that i was nothing.
while it may be that
easy to lose your grip,
one more gust and
it is enough to lose
your mind.
YOU ARE READING
deadroses || poetry
Poetry"we had a vision though, now we dead roses" now, why did she send them? these broken down, wilted, beat up, rotten-looking flowers.
