GertietheGremlin

If love was a garden, I’d let it grow wild

Because what use is love that’s tamed?

There, the honeybees would be the messengers, passing letters of sweet nothings from the sun to the flower’s soft buds

the contents of the atlantic 

are tucked behind my ear. 

the other isles have oozed into my hair

parasitcally working their way down my throat

As I step into the wood

I hear nature’s song, oh so good

The song of a small bird,

he fills the world without a word

At the peak of a sweet crescendo,

There’s this new feeling

It’s a very different feeling

But it’s a good feeling

I thought I had this figured out

But like Icarus with the sun

I still had no idea what would be done

You told me I was made of pure sunshine

I tried to believe you

I did

I promise

But how can I be sunshine

When she is made of pure gold

Le François de la Tranchée

With my stomach on the ground, I look over the parapet and into the trench. Nobody could be seen.