I don't know if this makes sense
But my garden grows inward.
It takes the rain of negativity
And wraps itself around sensitivities.
Trauma grows like roots around my heart
And drains the calcium from my bones.
Blooming into ingrown flowers
Dark with the fresh blood of regret.
My fruits rot inside the ground
Fertilizing the soil for a new inverted crop.
My memories spread into Ivy
Growing inward choking my circulation.
My body absorbs Toxins like Water
Feeding the weeds in my head
Which grow inside and knot themselves
Into Tumors of Longing.
I don't know if this makes sense
But my garden grows inward.