March carries a silent warning,
The warning of the sun,
Sun that unwraps bodies
and lays them on the ground.
The mirror knows what I carry
I can’t put on the display
So should I punish the mirror
or pray the sun's delay?
The tiny dolls are eager
They beg the sun to stay
Their skin a surgeon's knife
but they would never say
And they ponder, tapping, hoffing, shoving
ready for the show
but will it ever get here
Oh heaven, heaven knows
Bella.
Happy weekend and don’t stare at yourself too long! :)
🔥🔥🔥
you are genuinely SO talented and deserve a bigger platform wow