end! i feel so annoying when i write these i'll stop :*
me.
biking like mad down the long, fluorescent highway
and you followed me
and I smiled
because it was the perfect trap
and we,
we are going to get lost together
in that little forest
that you drew in your tattered,
leather bound notebook.
YOU ARE READING
untitled.
PoetryStars and painted candlelights are the only things that bother to keep me sane, these days. But it's okay. I know you're trying. (My first posted poetry collection)
