ode to the green, by me
There’s no such thing as “if” anymore.
The past is a nocturnal creature
waiting for you in the starlight.
Waits for you to glow orange
before it closes its eyes.
I don’t fall in love with your purple veins.
ode to the green, by me
There’s no such thing as “if” anymore.
The past is a nocturnal creature
waiting for you in the starlight.
Waits for you to glow orange
before it closes its eyes.
I don’t fall in love with your purple veins.