I want to lie in bed,
From now until my tears, turn body to a gnarled spiral bonsai, laced in foils of flowers and then maybe I'll move.
When yellow gerbera push through my eyelids and flirt in the darkness where they glow numbly
like lavalamps.
When weeds, which never bothered me, adorn my crown and hail me king.
But king of a spoilt body and who wants those lands?
Don't look for me.
When I'm like this I don't want to be found,
I hold myself tight in arms of toxic thorns that
tumble from my ears.
Might be I'll move,
when moving moves the sun and that beautifully sad orange bathes every inch of this twisted tin sphere, where you've watched me rot for years.
YOU ARE READING
Happy-Sad Poetry
PoetryA collection of poems written by me over several years, many of which contain deep dark worries and fears. It isn't light stuff, but please lose yourself in my words and come out the other side a different person.
