Pretty, pretty flowers
Hanging from a vine
Crawling up my wall
Reaching for my small plastic
Stars, glistening brightly in the dark.
Some rebel and slither down my backboard
Over the sheets and onto my small pale form,
Warming me with their warm leaves and
Petals, dancing across my skin.
I smile
And they smile.
Lovely, lovely roses smiling
all around me.
Be gentle now
They tighten to screams...
YOU ARE READING
Paper and Pencil Shavings..
PoetryThis will be a collection of poetry that I have written over the years.