CW: death
220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxTGjm46cY0
It buzzes under your skin, an insistent prod at your guts; all twisting and snakelike in the way it coils along your lungs.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCbbIaFQuW8
220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ30hCjFBdiU
All you smell is sickly sweet dandelions as you’re showered in the yellow flowers— weeds.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4IRap8cWi4
220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeDW0aKnEc9
It clings to your skin with vengeance, the reek of decaying plants scraping spidery fingers along the grooves and notches in your skull.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvT25yJ8W8T
220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEgPBf7Z3vg
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.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUK8RvuCo37
220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡODuWdnQyGK
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.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg9rR9oCl9W
