#sparksofrose

so ive been getting a bunch of anons asking when I am going to post more of my poetry, and I am so sorry, I have just been so insanely busy throughout the past month! That beung said, please feel free to submit your own poetry and artwork, so I can share that with the world. I love you all, and I will post more soon <3

the air smells like calamity and wine. she sits, weeping about a charcoal smudge, her eyes ablaze, she's trying to define the selfish art she often tried to judge. her fingers, shaking, ignite a bonfire. cigarette turns pensively aglow. you see her fervent mind is filled with shame; that wandering soul turned false so long ago. today, you hold her, through her vanity. lungs turn to ash and hearts become fool's gold, and you must help to keep humanity; protect wildflowers from persistent cold. with broken heart, she tried to medicate; in modern, tragic fashion, she found fate.

a lyrical lust lovingly lands, lurking, lithe: lips and little hands.

queen with woven gold in her left eye. In her right- a dandelion.

you can't feel my hands or see your own truth hovering but you can distract

you probably know too much. i see you're just another papercut, another notch, another snake, but also I don't mind when you give me the time and buy me a cherry coke and play the adult. you tell me where to put my lips and pretend to see me. we're just dandelions, my dear. xx

she must have entered the world at the climax of Beethoven's Ninth. the way she tiptoed around bombs was legendary and tragic. i loved her because she saw the hand of shiva in my eyes. we never stopped dancing, even when our lungs filled with smoke and and nausea. now she's a smudge on the wall, but her nail polish remains on my sink, crimson and dusty. she disappeared with the winter. xx