I Was Made From Pollen And Brittle Beige Petals,
My Blood Was Created From Silver Dewdrops,
My Eyes Were Made From Two Summer Leaves,
And My Lips Were Created By Ripe Strawberries,
I Feed Off Of The Sun And I Am Anchered In Soil,
Yet There Is Always The Threat Of Being Plucked,
Of Being Put Into A Vase Just For Show,
But I Will Wilt Because I Am No Longer Rooted,
To The Earth's Resonating Crust

SydneyVictoria