Flower seeds rest underneath my collarbone
And in my lungs
You planted them there
I thank you for the thought
And although they are beautiful,
The ones that are in my lungs,
Are suffocating me.
The ones underneath my collarbone grow out through the bone and out my skin.
I keep picking off the petals that show
But they will not stop saying
'He loves you!'
'He loves you!'
I don't know how to make them understand that he doesn't
You don't.
YOU ARE READING
storms and blood
Poetrythe death of which is unknown -figured out between the lines of within these pages
