every second and minute and hour and day i'm with you-
trills of giggles escape.
the slight chuckles trailing from lips-
the stealings of a kiss.
films flash on the screen above and the fairytales scream-
degrade them qucikly, if you know what i mean.
YOU ARE READING
philophobia
Poetryit isn't always as it seems. first breaths of love, first breaks of hearts, first year. October 2013 - May 2015
