i hate the seeds you gave me. they have started growing roots on my stomach. has wrapped itself around my lungs. soon it will bloom on my heart. if you don't kill me the thorns will. why did i accept the seeds and planted then inside me. you smile now knowing that im dying because of you.
YOU ARE READING
you're not a poet.
Poesíaim not a poet. i just watch the world go by every second, minute, hour. like a normal person and feel my heart pumping through my brain
