CW: death
306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb9FyRVnTYQ
It buzzes under your skin, an insistent prod at your guts; all twisting and snakelike in the way it coils along your lungs.306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHQmT2Dr3EH
306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQS5rOETENh
All you smell is sickly sweet dandelions as you’re showered in the yellow flowers— weeds.306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡynvv3QTn8f
306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu5C8rlqAZc
It clings to your skin with vengeance, the reek of decaying plants scraping spidery fingers along the grooves and notches in your skull.306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLdToxb5KPN
306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqMQBEet3Mn
Dead and forgotten wishes sink into your bones, collecting in every crevice and crack of your armor less body. Clothes gone too, if the wind stubbornly brushing the flowers— weeds— away futilely is anything to go by.306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ8u0kz4lkJ
306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgRaJKstRuK
Like these flowers, and the wishes they hold tied up in their color— bright yellow, the color of traitors, and soft white, like a morning cloud before rainfall— you too would be forgotten, left to decay in fields of dandelions, preserved by the immortality you did not wish for.306Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLsrJwIwa4T
