THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
come a little closer, i wanna tell u how i feel.
you've left me; constellations left unstrung within my veins. highest ranking; #2 in poetry november 2018
both weep for the thorns in their skulls when the sun is killed and summer has gone by and the rain is acidic. tragic is they are mortals, and mortals are made of greed and unholy prayers.