You fill my lungs with helium
Like they're party balloons;
Our problems are pulled
from my mouth
And they float to the ceiling
And we smile,
Even if it's temporary.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, Pastel
PoetryI wonder is you can feel it too- The discrete pockets of sunlight Slipping through on dreary days; It warms my skin and fuels my smile. I'll keep the garden, After all. {Sequel to Fake Flowers}
