Tie Me Up Buttercup
Rusted, weathered, and unapologetically anchored, this is strength shaped by salt and time. A mooring point, yes, but also a memory, clinging quietly to the edge of the sea. Beauty doesn’t ask to be noticed. It just waits, quietly corroding into poetry.
Rusted, weathered, and unapologetically anchored, this is strength shaped by salt and time. A mooring point, yes, but also a memory, clinging quietly to the edge of the sea. Beauty doesn’t ask to be noticed. It just waits, quietly corroding into poetry.
Rusted, weathered, and unapologetically anchored, this is strength shaped by salt and time. A mooring point, yes, but also a memory, clinging quietly to the edge of the sea. Beauty doesn’t ask to be noticed. It just waits, quietly corroding into poetry.