Our pinkies lace
and I think I love you more than I should allow myself
but who really cares? I know you don't
we could lay on the sun forever
blazing our eyes with lightning right around December,
I think I love you and I might just allow myself,
You tell me is useless
no use in trying not to
"If you care about something hold it enough till becomes a part of you"
a leg
an arm
a smile hidden by the bed sheets
a pure simplistic allergy for the thought of you ever leaving me,
By June my feet are glued to you
your soil is perfect and I should let my fears wither away
make room for your lavender as it calms my anxiety and pain
...
and I'm starting to lose myself
...
but who really cares?
I think I should allow myself.
YOU ARE READING
FACELESS
Non-FictionCome along and live many lives. The Faceless have laid their secrets just for you; their stories and conversations filled with life drip from the pages; guard this book close to your heart, for your secrets might be on it too.
