Posted in Creative Writing, Writing

Daisy Chains

Glittery cigarette,

laying on my lips,

mixing drinks with the moon,

on the soft sand.

Call me your Queen,

raging waves, our new homeland,

late night lollipops,

setting sun, wandering hands.

Golden eyes, watching you,

from my daisy chains,

wrapped around my wrist,

and the waist you claim.

Bluebells, baby,

maybe I could change,

strip myself of the scars,

maybe you could tame me.

Glittery cigarette,

laying on my lips,

I might let you replace it,

if the moon says so.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s