still, i wish flowers grew from my veins
and curled around my wrists like vines - no snakes
i’ve spent so long in my room that i don’t
feel like i’m natural anymore

it’s been months since i first wrote about you
and days since i mentioned you to him
i know where i stand now, it’s on glass
i bet you wished flowers sprouted from the red

i’m not the same soul i was at eleven
sinister motives wire their way through
my nerves, my senses, the blossom in my hair
at least i think you’re learning of love

rapunzel in the tower, you’re acres away
through controlling thorns and misjudgement
i’ll find you with your hair down and gasp
because until now, you weren’t one for metaphors.