The words
The petals
On a flower that
Thrives by appearance
Is only
Will merely
Be a flimsy
Taste of what's inside
Why price
By the eyes
The symmetry
Of flawed beauty
As though
As most
Are weighed by
Thoughtless ideals
For those
Four arrows
A sma...
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How digital ink spills easily, easier / than words pulling, bursting licorice chords / and choking me while everyone's watching / they only like my tears and not my voice / is an unfinished book / but this chapter is written by us / where emotions and memories will live / where words can grow wings but not be lured / not be delusioned / by a near but faraway rainbow
