Prose
Finely sniffing the rose
As I walked awkwardly among the pounding words and sat motionless in the spring night, a slight ache began to grow in my chest. I'm not a hypocrite anymore, don't get me wrong, but I felt as like I was walking in the real world. It's like fighting nonstop, erasing all evidence of those lost in the process, all the while striving to capture anything.
By chaliewang2 years ago in Poets
