• 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

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where is my heart?

you said one day we would marry and as a grown child, i believed you slipped thorns into my mouth i tried to thank you for the roses but blood came pouring out where are you now? where is my heart? i'

We Can Still Be Friends

it’s a weird place to be, stuck right in between i’m still in love with you, and i deserve more than you gave me when both are, at once, true i liked you much more before i loved you i liked you bette

the wool

you made me feel like you loved me even when you don’t. it was just enough for me, ignoring reality for a dream. though the wool was thin, it sat snug against my eyes, nonetheless. i could sculpt it i