

7. like dandelionsa string exists. it dangles in the air like a promise unfulfilled.7. like dandelions
a string exists tied around the smallest finger of her hand.
she sings - if no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound - and she dances and no one is there to see her. a figurine, a witch, a girl.
why, she's nothing more than a girl.
but she laughs - not a ladylike laugh in the least this obnoxious, happy laugh she's not afraid to show the world "life is good, i guess", she says, and life becomes good for her for her and for those around her.
so she walks over, brushing weeds f


6. dawn for youmidnight6. dawn for you
not quite tranquil not quite fiery not quite alive just numb and maybe a little hollow.
one past midnight one past happiness so close past death i think it went too far this time.
two past midnight two, a happy number no more - not crowded no less - not alone it's beautiful and missed.
three past midnight a little repetitive, it seems an extra wheel or an extra smile? an extra soul with which to spend a while? oh so much better off being two.
four past midnight sounds elegant for no real
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PLANETWALKER | crazy kinda poet kid
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