even the money can’t buy this feeling
it’s getter rarer by the day
and with each passing hour
my bones beg to be stroked
by someone willing to pour out their love
sweet water in the vase of my heart,
needs filling before it cracks
and if it shatters it will cut me apart
until i bleed the colour that i crave
that same flavour from when i was 16
but without the sour aftertaste
i don’t know if im capable
i’m able to fall easy but let go as fast
i don’t know if im able
i’m wanting to bite more
not willing to put up a fight anymore
on the days where darkness comes to play
within the fields that have overgrown
i’ve been meaning to cut the grass
for i can’t see what’s hidden around me.
- Author: tyler wyatt (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 29th, 2022 00:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 40
Comments2
Lovely words
So, once the grass is cut, and you can see the woods for the trees, I foresee good times ahead. Now, just to find someone to cut the fucking grass.
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