Capricious ecstasy 

She put a pretty flower in my hair, plucked out from a pretty garden with a pretty past, marred in scars,

She put it in my hair rather than hers; contradicting all that I thought of her. 

Soon she’ll continue choking and showering me with an overload of flowers of all sorts, overwhelming me, nothing new there. 

We’re a spark that I hope won’t ever die. 

                                                                                          

                                                                                          ~ M. B 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s