My scent will entice you.
My taste will bring you back.
The more attention you give me, the higher I climb.
And while you’re distracted by the things that make me appealing, I’m wrapping around you tightly.
Too late will you realize that I’m strangling you.
Too late will you remember that I’m a weed, not a flower.
About the Creator
Tiffany Fairfield
I’m 27 and have absolutely no clue what I’m doing at any given point. Kind of still trying to figure it out. But writing helps so there’s that I guess.
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More stories from Tiffany Fairfield and writers in Poets and other communities.
Falling up
We were two souls lost in the darkness and talking to each other throughout it was slowly tethering us together. We were building the foundations of our world. Where no one could find us and only those we allowed could enter. We wrapped ourselves in a bubble of fantasy and insanity and we felt home. We weren’t religious, but we created a god and worshipped at each other’s feet.
By Tiffany Fairfield2 years ago in Poets
Comments (1)
I love honeysuckle but I'm not sure I like the idea of it strangling me. I'll be watching it more closely.