If you were to pry apart my rib cage you’d find I have vines rather than milk white bones
In place of my lungs two hyacinth have sprung and my kidneys are now instead cloves
Everywhere else is just a hollowed out shelf for I no longer need my head for my brain
‘Cause my eyes are chrysanthemums and for my lips tulips hum as my ears are replaced by daisies plain
And as these wildflowers bloom down under the moon they represent my faint floral existence
For as a flower field girl with too many cares in this world the death of my roots can end my persistence