The flowers in my hair have planted weeds
inside my sanity. Developed roots
that cant be separated now, they're fused;
intrinsic to my idiotic needs.
The darkness spreads through insecurities
that form when painful memories dilute
and bend into a distant toxic truth
that leaves a desperation to concede.

I'm not quite sure just how to carry on
when words don't really help and there's no room
to plant new flowers or to try move on.
I guess I'll have to think of something new.
You'll find me in my garden from now on,
uprooting weeds to finally be in bloom.