#thelitnet

oh spring, how raw you have become. oh spring, with your earth that opens and smells of blossoms, no longer of decay. oh spring, i have seen you from afar. my skin, not ready, feeling promiscuous, eaten by the cold. oh spring, i want to make you mine, take the roses and the daisies, put them all inside this rotting chest. this spring, our spring, the one that smells like gold and the rays that feel like promises, unbroken, not whispered. oh spring, the smell of water runs on your soil, torments, elation, many screams, and a dream of sun.

so it’s sunday and i am slightly bored and i would love to check out some blogs because i am following so many inactive blogs so here comes something i haven’t done in a while because i am so inactive….

I hold what's little of my hope left Tightly inside my hands. The waves are trying to push it off They are jealous I hold so tight my hands Have gone all red I can't feel my skin anymore. 'What happens if you let go?' They scream I want to tell them That this Is the last of me.