Poetry:
Colored spinning vortexes of rainbow, I see.
The L in your voice, and your faceless person
Drawing sugar from your purple dress,
I’m under a beige voiced spell,
Is it true, that I wake under your voice,
Your call in the wolf wood, to me,
as I enter and see you climbing ladders
looking for me, I ahooo, and show you
this magic might feel true and real,
or. is it her?
Take me to the woods. When I see the majesty of the trees and feel the spirit of the whole forest, my problems always get smaller.
woodland (via w–o–o–d–l–a–n–d)
(via w--o--o--d--l--a--n--d)
I’m in love and she knows it.
I blame my crazy dreams for the reason I’m so weird.
For all a good night, give me a goodnight. you
