A little wilted

I was melted butter soaked into the crusts of wood flooring; melting my all-too gooey heart over the 4 legged ball of marshmallow fluff named Hillan snuggled into the crannies of all my crevices. Salty sweet and content resting with the dirt and ashes that accumulated from the soft murmur of the fire beyond that rusted metal guard.

Today I've become the wilted whispers of the the weeping willows long branches, rickety in the chatter of the wind. Too much time was spent inside beyond the lengthy stilts of the sun, the call of the spring sprouts, and the kisses of recently rained upon soil. A little wilted, maybe just over-watered and blown around underneath my own personal cloud. Tomorrow will be better I'll just remember to forget this doldrums im stuck in of too many hopes and nowhere to put them, I'll let that rejection I've been mucking through wash off these boots of mine, and pretend this gash in my mind is just a scratch in hopes that I'll loose enough matter to not mind in the morning.