• Hannah Flowers

hold a candle at my own vigil the death of an ego once the old persona has lifted, where does it go? i’ve bought flowers i’ve held roses i’ve had mountains made of gold nothing ever longed for sweetly as the smell of your cologne for i have been known and i have seen the backroads and so it goes, on it goes universe quid pro quo i would rather never take hold of this feeling centuries old but it has touched me, infinitely affecting my own prose

Recent Posts

See All

(un)holy ground

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

you were a house.

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

candles / spores

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