Chores~

when morning crashes into the afternoon is the greatest escape as books rip away life at the seams. i'd have it made if december decides to stop in the corner of the room, taking july that wraps around me. its never sane when i think, but i'll always create a flower garden for those in need - and i'll never understand why i sleep all day. 
don't worry aloud, scream with clever wit to stay abroad. sailors go south, remedies stay in the north. tomorrow speaks for today as yesterday stays quiet for weeks at a time. if only that was me whom stays bored by the chore. 
bust behind a shop full of poppies, could it be? bye!!