Hannah Flowersyou tell me to free myself of my chains even while you rattle your own. you are bound to your old ways, i am bound to skin and bone. the truth waits in haunted alleys mistaken too often for home. the beaten flesh hungers for tenderness, a heart-shaped garden, overgrown.
what once was sacred is cursed perhaps it could be worse the temple at which i’d pray overrun now by this wraith my messiah led me astray that’s what you get with blind faith my friends were also fool
can you feel me looking at you? can you hear me whisper to the moon? in the same way i felt you refrain heard the breaking of these chains as i tried to hold onto your frame after i had been an earthq
you asked me to meet you in a dream yes, i will, i replied swiftly for a moment’s pleasure seems far more important than honesty. have you ever watched a mushroom grow? some have spores which, at nigh