Unchain me
The breaths I take doesn't seem to be mines
My clenched lungs grew weaker
Prescription?
Not even once it helped
Just tiny pants of exhaustion
So set me free
From the chains that hold me in
Supernatural it may seem
That the red strings of fate
Was tangled around my neck
YOU ARE READING
Purple Hyacinth
Poetry[First of The "Hyacinth" Poetry Book Series] I once wished that we won't wither. But I'm sorry, I guess those flowers were us after all.
