𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀

it was a bright, sunny day with wools of sugar swimming in it. those wools then melting into a river of sweet puddle. strings of daisies and poppies sticking out in the grassy field. the sunlight fell upon you like orange juice raining down the sky, making a sticky mess on your skin. you glue your wild honey drops on me. your lies sound like sugar coated sour strawberries.