Oh, Veronica — sparklyclit: Yes I’m an open book but my writing...

sparklyclit:

Yes I’m an open book but my writing is coded
Most novels aren’t to be spoken
I’m deciding that you’re good
So be good to me
I cried walking home yesterday because you weren’t there to walk with me and I cried and I cried and I
I’m not the pebble you toss into the stream and hope it’s bounces it’s way into the sunset
I know it’s pretty I know you’re pretty
We can’t dance on top of water the way they do
Slip me into your pocket then put me on your night stand
I glow brighter than any lamp
don’t send me
I tried to think of a pretty way to tell that when I’m high your name is blink because I keep seeing you pop in front of my eyes but I can’t really assort my letters in enough patterns to tell you much of anything
you’re behind the mail box you’re at the bus stop you’re in my head you’re in my head
they say green eyes are rare I say so is he
I’ll tell you more if you promise not to blow me into the sky
You won’t feel it unless you keep it
dandelions dandelions dandelions
keep them in the ground
not everything is for you to take
i wasn’t yours to take