– blooming was a wish to die.
daisies encased,roses bookmarked,
lilies vased,
sunflowers gardened,
orchids watered,
carnations decorated,
dahlias bloomed,
i gave you the land of my garden,
a place that held ground for my heart.
i gave it all to you,
so that i instead withered,
with the scorching of the sun,
with bugs being fed off of myself,
i grew the thorns your roses bloomed,
i drowned in the water your lilies were vased,
i lost breath for your dasies encased,
i was the dirt upon which your sunflowers gardened,
i left my thirst unquenched for your orchids to be watered,
i hid behind those carnations you decorated,
for no,
i wasn't to be heard or seen of,
i wasn't to be bloomed,
but;
but,
what if i instead bloomed a dahlia over the land of my heart?
it's okay if i were to get hurt with it's wood that followed,
it's okay if i was thorned at my throat,
it's okay if i was drowned in my tireless float,
it's okay if my fires burned me instead,
it's okay if my garden was a graveyard of orange blossoms,
it's okay,
for i would still have my dahlia,
because if it bloomed,
even a single petal of hope,
i will know then at last,
that my future is a better spring,
that the last,
and that to bloom,
pain was death,
but to love,
was a wish to die.
YOU ARE READING
swevens of vernorexia
Poetryi shall bloom flowers of love in your heart, so you may bleed petals for blood when i leave.