she is the reason why whenever you spill
mustard on your shirt, you never complain about the leftover stain
the reason why whenever your eyes
grow distant staring at the campus wildflowers you stop a second to soak it in
the reason why nettles sting the skin of your hands and still you smile a thousand watts to light up a lonely, nebraskan sky
she's the reason for everything,
isn't she?
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
