You make flowers grow in my lungs
Into my mouth, spilling over my tongue
Tulips, daisies, daffodils
Vines climb my face and block out the sun
Petals and pollen tickle my throat
Roses are red, baby that's all you wrote
Needles and thorns slice my skin to ribbons
My blood is redder than roses
Now I'm choking on dandelion seeds
No more wishes to be had with these
My eyes fill with nectar
My hair's full of leaves
The colors and scents
Attract swarms of bees
And they sting
Me
You make flowers grow in my lungs
And they're beautiful
But I can't breathe
YOU ARE READING
Misty (a collection of my poetry) {{COMPLETE}}
PoetryA road trip of poetry, I guess. Care to come along? Highest rank: 267 in poetry Read my third poetry book, "hush." I have high hopes for it. Read my first poetry book, "where the bluebirds aren't." (Or don't, it's old and rather embarrassing). ⚠️...
