Poppy – you are. My field of wild poppies…

You are my poppy. Even though I called you sunshine every morning, you were never my sunflower… As a matter of fact, you are my field of wild poppies… Red, bright, swaying in the wind, sun and rain… never to be picked, never to be mine…

I must be careful as you can become my drug. My poppy drug, my never reachable, almost unreal drug…

I must pay attention to my line of thoughts. You are my illogical line of thoughts. You are my field of poppies which, through the direct view (as I look at you) impacts me as a whole….impacts me and beyond…

I want you to stay.


As a field of wild poppies. As a possibility to be my drug yet to never reach that stage.

I want to wake up and call you my sunshine yet to have you much more fragile than the never ending sun…



Parašykite komentarą

Įveskite savo duomenis žemiau arba prisijunkite per socialinį tinklą:

WordPress.com Logo

Jūs komentuojate naudodamiesi savo WordPress.com paskyra. Atsijungti /  Keisti )

Google+ photo

Jūs komentuojate naudodamiesi savo Google+ paskyra. Atsijungti /  Keisti )

Twitter picture

Jūs komentuojate naudodamiesi savo Twitter paskyra. Atsijungti /  Keisti )

Facebook photo

Jūs komentuojate naudodamiesi savo Facebook paskyra. Atsijungti /  Keisti )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: