You, the pinkest of water lilies to be plucked. Me, the pond scum that gets tracked home on worn shoes whose soles have cracked apart and left to rot in a corner of a dark and damp garage.
Life’s not fair.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
You, the pinkest of water lilies to be plucked. Me, the pond scum that gets tracked home on worn shoes whose soles have cracked apart and left to rot in a corner of a dark and damp garage.
Life’s not fair.
Love the love that cannot be had. The longing and for and the beauty of the unattainable.