Flowers


I once laid in a bed with a man
Who wanted to plant flowers inside of me.
He would whisper in my ear like sunshine
Making them grow taller and taller.
Roots of weeds began to sprout at my feet
I could not move or leave I was a flower to be tended to
A flower to be watered and watched and touched
But not to move.
The roots in my feet spread to legs
Until I couldn't even blow in the wind.
He wanted to see the leaves
In my legs and arms and chest and sometimes my face
Leaving his leaves as green and purple hued bruises
Peppered over my vase.
And when I became an empty stem
Decorated with leaves and roots so deep I could have been a tree,
His flowers began to bloom
And though his pedals blocked off my airway,
I was a perfect vase.
And when the aroma became too strong
I collapsed and withered away.
I told you this
And I asked you if you wanted to plant flowers inside of me
But you told me you want winters
You want to love me in the dead of winter
When there are no flowers to bloom
When I asked you said you are happy to love me empty
To love me with the dead remains
You do not want a flower but for you,
I would plant a garden outside our home.

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