There's a book of saints that has been touched by my fingerprints But do not worry, it has not been sought open Not by me Or any
There's a book of saints and the others have stolen it from me Translated it in a language that's is unknown to me That is foreign One that is on the tip of my tongue but it won't fall from me Words like that do not belong in a mouth like mine anyway
I've left the notion of rationally a long time ago Why reason with a stone? When it will only be used against you as a weapon The only breath of fresh air I have is my own And it's dangerously decaying
Flowers bloom in my bedroom But wilter in my closet You see sunlight can not find its way in there And I can't pry it open with my hands Because every time I try they become flowers
But they are so beautiful Executes everything so stunningly That they leave traces of fairy dust They are the most pleasant thing to see It makes me want to shower them in gold Show the world that not all I do is ugly Or is unnatural
Because isn't it such a nature thing to do? Bloom in the darkest of places
And isn't it funny? How choices can be like flowers Be alive so unapologetic-like Except they are so fragile Yet so elegant Maybe it's morbid for me to compare myself to a flower Since we all know what happens when winter comes And I live in a vicious cycle of coldness
Nonetheless, there is no stopping my beating heart when the sun comes Nor when the rain pours over my love Drowning me in lavender
Do not worry I have seen what floods can do to fields of flowers How they swallow up any life and destroy it Send it to their death without a second thought, There is horror in this world That has been left to swim unchecked in these prairies for too long Ignored and said to be harmless Ignored when they drowned my fields of violets
So no I will not grow into a rose I wish for you to follow me with this Yet words to teach you my language are untranslatable There's is nothing I can compare to the feeling of making a home out of one outfit Nothing to make you understand when I say I'm okay I don't need to change There are no words to transcribe the feeling of being content with your body And what it can bloom
Ok so this is my favourite. Its is 3/3 of my assigment
Theme: Nature + flower languages + struggling with religion and queerness aka violets and lavender mean sapphic love and rose means straight love or society expetations
Wrote this after watching Little Women, it gave me such inspiration!