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Run until your head is too heavy
White lights and ethereal
Spinning into nothing
And fall to your knees
The smell of death
Flies from your mouth
Turning into blossoms
Multi-colored mushrooms
Escaping escaping escaping
From your fingers to
The earth
Rotting- rooting
You
To the spot
Where you fell
When you were only
Fifteen
A color for each year
Sprouting

The darkest shoot from your heart
Straight to the sky
Protecting those
You couldn’t
©2008-2009 ~Not-The-Reality
:iconnot-the-reality:

Author's Comments

This is sort of directed toward my little bro, who god willing will never read it. Because I want him to be everything I'm not, and to make better decisions.... and I love him.

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September 27, 2008
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