🏹FᎬᎬᏞᏆNᏩ ᎬᏞᎬᏟᎢᎡᏆᏟ ᎢᎾNᏆᏩᎻᎢ🏹
All of my oxygen is being crushed Now the tingling in my arms to my neck feels like ants under my skin Xylophones makes noise and noise is what prolongs rapid breathing
By ᏴᏞᎪᏟK ᏞᏆQᏌᎾᎡᏆᏚᎻ5 years ago in Poets
Doll #1 Pretty, poppy, & flirty wait 'til you hit thirty. All the beauty that melts. Oh, that you've ever felt! Photos & laughter & compliments of youth. Why can't we melt, starting age 92?
By ᏴᏞᎪᏟK ᏞᏆQᏌᎾᎡᏆᏚᎻ6 years ago in Poets
I don't grumble all the time aloud. This is a little pearl: I mostly grumble in silence. From a whispered mumble, to myself, these words are true:
Part of me is that I remember January my tears are cold. February came and I have given my love to you. March I could've stayed and you would've been my charm.
By ᏴᏞᎪᏟK ᏞᏆQᏌᎾᎡᏆᏚᎻ7 years ago in Poets