She shoved fertilizer down my throat and told me to grow up. But the flowers that grew in my windpipe only made me long to be held once more. Their roots crushed my lungs and held me captive in a time-frozen prison. I couldn't grow up. Not yet.
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Academy Of American Bullshit
PoetryCollection of poetry, parts of short stories, and the occasional rant written by an artist who is angrier than she'd like to admit.
100°F.
She shoved fertilizer down my throat and told me to grow up. But the flowers that grew in my windpipe only made me long to be held once more. Their roots crushed my lungs and held me captive in a time-frozen prison. I couldn't grow up. Not yet.