(no subject)
I want to run and just think about the next step and nothing else and keep running. I want run so far that I don't know how to come back, so I just go home and cry everything out.
A field of the wildest flowers
Some may call weeds
The smell of Lilac
His soft hands trace the curve of my hips.
He tells me the line reminds him of Matisse,
but he doesn’t kiss me when leaves
and he will leave me
One cannot love without vulnerability
the rain pitter patters louder
on the tin cans I’ve placed outside my window.
I wonder and I dream of misshapen cities full
Oddly asymmetrical buildings;
deep purple, magenta, and gold.
I wonder into strangers with mustaches and silly hats
Who tell me I’m no where at all
We hold hands and wait for train,
But it never comes.
We sit in the trees surrounded by floating candles
Music in the crickets, the gentle flow of the creek
my thoughts leak
and we fall like leaves to settle into the ground and sleep
A field of the wildest flowers
Some may call weeds
The smell of Lilac
His soft hands trace the curve of my hips.
He tells me the line reminds him of Matisse,
but he doesn’t kiss me when leaves
and he will leave me
One cannot love without vulnerability
the rain pitter patters louder
on the tin cans I’ve placed outside my window.
I wonder and I dream of misshapen cities full
Oddly asymmetrical buildings;
deep purple, magenta, and gold.
I wonder into strangers with mustaches and silly hats
Who tell me I’m no where at all
We hold hands and wait for train,
But it never comes.
We sit in the trees surrounded by floating candles
Music in the crickets, the gentle flow of the creek
my thoughts leak
and we fall like leaves to settle into the ground and sleep