I write about what I don't want to forget and about what I want to fade.
Only you and I hidden beneath this bed of flowers. You yearned for blissful lips, But you found wired, jaded ones. Laughing like a god about angelic endeavors,
By Ava Summer7 years ago in Poets
Your words flowed from you so naturally Like sweet nectar dripping from a honeycomb. You laid to rest any protruding weeds
You hail from a small town, And I’m just looking for a piece of back home Where city dwellers smile and scoff At skyscrapers and homemade murals.