The snapdragons losing their heads on my table little royal executions in a chipped glass jar me and the girl who is mine not by blood but by choice plucked them from a crack in the wall between garbage bins and cigarette butts which felt important the way beautiful things often grow where no one has made a proper place for them in the cool afternoon in the strange palatial mess of being alive and now they are here losing their heads on my table still beautiful even in pieces which feels important too.
Thank you so much for this prompt! I adore romanticizing the everyday and I just love working on pieces like this.
This post was inspired by one of the prompts dropped into The Muse Jar by Neurosquishy: Mushy Feely Explorations. Thank you so much for the support!
The Muse Jar, a project where people submit something—a word, memory, smell, anything—and I randomly pick some to write a poem about.
If you would like to learn more about The Muse Jar, you can see the post below.
If you would like to become a muse, you can submit here.
The strange palatial mess of being alive, is a great line. I feel that. Thanks for taking my prompt it means a lot 💖🥺
What a sweet poem ^_^ Slightly unrelated, but how did you format it to make the text have different stanzas? I'm trying to post a poem and I don't know how to do it sadly