Below the grounds of your soil my seeds rested -
Breeding roots of grass and tulips up to your feet
Viscously you marched over my veins -
Plucking out every last bit of my tender stems
However, tender you were in the rain;
Covering my petals from the liquid stains
But it was never for the love of my seeds;
Rather for the mere satisfaction of gazing at my blood in a vase near your sunny window
Your ignorance called it beauty
Yet, from way under the soil here ..
I called it ******
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Below the grounds of your soil my seeds rested -
Breeding roots of grass and tulips up to your feet
Viscously you marched over my veins -
Plucking out every last bit of my tender stems
However, tender you were in the rain;
Covering my petals from the liquid stains
But it was never for the love of my seeds;
Rather for the mere satisfaction of gazing at my blood in a vase near your sunny window
Your ignorance called it beauty
Yet, from way under the soil here ..
I called it ******
Sincerely, Em
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