mold

Please do not remind meThat it won't be you.Please don't hurt me moreThan I already do.

I still question it...Why am I in this story?Guess I cursed myselfImagining. It's synthetic.

My pillow will probably grow mouldy.Can we already switch to holy momentWhen there is nobody left on Earth?In silence, butterflies fly over grass.

My thoughts are dangerous;Oh God, help me erase 'em.Just don't remind me, dear, don't do that.Let's make the most of our time together.

Mar. 14, 2025