#twinkley

what if i did it for free and irreparably damaged my reputation

A chortle escapes pink lips,

As I stroke the face of peach.

And a fire is alighted as red as her hair,

As it lays auburn on her cheeks.

 She is a poet, a painter of words,

And I am a lover of her.

She is an artist, and she is absurd,

And I am her lump of clay.

 I open my mouth

And vomit up longing,

Please tell me you love me, too.

With green emerald eyes, shining in pity,

She says, “I cannot love you.”

 But that’s okay,

My cheeks burning scarlet.

I realize that I really don’t care.

Of course that’s a lie,

I care very much,

And I have so much love left to share.

 But I’ll watch from the background,

The being of stardust,

As she lives her life as a dare.

I’ll watch and admire,

The lady of flowers,

Until my heart is too broken to bare.

Found this on a split with Lions. It's really good.