thorns and other maladies

33

i let you execute my flowers.
one by one
you sent them off to the guillotine
and chopped off their heads.
petals fell
and pollen scattered
and their pretty little heads
rolled across the ground.
you left me in a flora graveyard
to be haunted by their ghosts.
to watch as the rain falls on broken stems
to watch the sun scorch away what's left of them.
my whole meadow
now a muddy pit.
deprived of it's flowers
devoid of life.
my whole meadow
just gone.
and i can't even blame you.
because i let you do it.
i watched you behead
each and everyone
and i didn't stop you.
i just sat there and watched
complicit to your murder.
i killed my flowers.
i killed my flowers.
and i died there along with them.