My Calamitous Gardener

Your words turn into flowers in my chest. Vines that crawl through my throat into my head blinding me from everything I should be seeing. I feel my lungs expand with every new blossom and my chest tightens for they fill me much too fast. But when you leave, the flowers turn into the deadliest of creatures. Crawling through my throat. Escaping into the air. These attrocities prevent me from breathing. Make me question whether they could have ever been the beauty that escaped your lips. They whisper to me not the words they had once been but what my mind had changed them into. Only the most vulgar forms of speech are sent through every vertbrae in my spine. I have become afraid of you and everything it means for me when I hear your voice. Your hands around my waist become the vines who’s thorns rip into my skin and allow my demons to breathe in that which makes them stronger. I do not blame you for any of this. None of this is becasue of you. It is because of my own inability to differentiate between what is good and what is true. My mind clings to the darkness it has been taught and it polluts the rest of my body with unkind waters. This is not your fault but you are not beneficial to the continuation of my life. You plant flowers inside of me that cannot stay alive without your attention becasue I can do nothing but kill the most beautiful things in life. You have made my stomach a cage of butterflies but the acid kills them within moments of their arrival. You are everything that is beautiful and I am everything that will destroy that.

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