quarta-feira, 26 de novembro de 2014

but a flower is just a flower
no hard feelings, just the truth.
it will never run a mile
hear or sigh upon your laughter
it wont stay with us till morning
talking nonsense to the moon.

amnesiac storyteller - 
she surely knows a world of her own.
it wont rembember when you held it
(the chosen one among the field)
but it felt your hands trembling
(and thats how i felt too)
the way you put it in my hair
(even though i couldnt have known)
then whispered words the wind would listen;
but the flower remained
and you were gone.

the thing about the flower, though
is that is has no recollection of your smile.

but then the flower was all i had left
and then not even that.

i couldnt look at another lilac, darling
i couldnt forgive the world for a while.

forgetful little things, i learned
are still beautiful, nonetheless -
i understood that clearly, with time
and i see daisies again now.

synesthetic eyeless bliss, the bitch.
you both left me way too soon.
a flower may be just a flower
but i cant wait for it to bloom.

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