Post reblogged from Shedding Petals with 143 notes
I have not touched love,
Nor do my fingers wish to
Caress the poisonous dancer,
They shy ‘way from such madness.
I would much rather be in bloom with happiness,
Not the breaking shell of a soul,
Or falling from the window’s ledge
That once ripped my dress to find you.
Source: sheddingpetals