The passion that you had,
was your downfall,
all your dreams dangled you,
from your dainty, saintly ankles,
over pretentious piranhas,
tugging at the threads of your tragic tapestry.

You say the way you were was decayed,
but I still see it,
in the right light,
but,
butterflies only live so long,
my love.
Maybe it’s your time.
RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Drowning In Us
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Notes To My Muse
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