My Wounds Bloom

The sides of a nostalgic story intertwine with the gravity of a failed sentiment. Misinterpretations are present in the momentum of time. Open wounds, sharp words that spoil the engine of life. Hallucinations overlap with the rebirth of confusion. To let it do any harm is to accept the wrong blame. Nascent roots that harmonize from the depths. Spell of flowers that sprout avoiding scars. They break the circumstances, becoming submissive. Thus filling the empty spirit with nectar.