(no subject)

[eustacia_vye]

You tell me
To be grateful
For the things I do have...
Two eyes,
Twenty eight teeth...
What about my losses?
Hope. Unanswered valentines.
Snowflakes
That melt in my hand.
There is a use
For me
In this purpose driven life
You boast so much about;
Cover me in yellow leaves
and
Filagree tracings of spiders.
Blanket me
in the damp breath of mushrooms,
Surround me with darkness
below and above-

Turn me like a sky.

I want to die and rise again...