This one time I started writing about plastic flowers and how mother Earth despises this war against her
How irony is a word that humanity developed
and at the end of this war of wires
it is humanity that dies away leaving wires to be the climbing ropes for creepers
our phone cases homes to snails
and paintbrushes, the hiding places for shrimps
But then my thoughts faded away from futility
away from a future,
I will not live to see
and landed on you
I had made you my arrival so often that no more flights departed from your airport and I, the only passenger longed to forever live in this cascade of empty journeys
It is now a war between Gaia and I
Mother, why
I am going to die, let me live till then with flowery thoughts of him and I
You will live, your bruises will heal
You will be free from the torment of greed
Go now, I don't want to think of you anymore
Let him enter my thoughts
This is a cry for help
For love is dying
The poets are dead and the painters are killed and lovers don't like to love
Why are the gardens of Babylon only in my heart? What do you mean love is going to fall apart?
Like a butterfly, I flutter aimlessly from one agony to another
Every bud and leaf, a flytrap, poison laden through and through
Only to land on you
…and you
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