my fingers tasted like pencils
the day i found your old shirts.
and i remember the sand from your pockets
you put there to keep safe
when i said i wished that i could fly.
you hoped for rain and lightening,
but promised to build me some wings.

image by xxbrenchyxx from here


Stephen said...

Undefined undefined.

You don't reply.

You'll lose your readerbase.

natalie. said...

help me get rid of that undefined crap.
i don't even know where it came from.

in other news.
i don't know how to even respond to a majority of your comments.
they are usually rhymes or answers to rhetorical questions.

but here's your gosh durned reply.
love you, steve.

Stephen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.