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.