they called the skinny girls twigs
and oh how i wish i could
sway in the wind like a willow
so i shed like the bark of a birch tree
and i started to fall apart
like the poplar leaves in autumn
you can count the bags under my eyes
like the rings
my clothes hang off me like
branches draping (from a tree)
my petals have wilted and sprinkled upon the ground
i am lifeless
but i am a twig now all the same
like i always - hoped to be
but where is beauty? without my flowers
