A woman is like a flower;
She blossoms.
The petals of her soul stem down to her roots, and
The bee that rests upon "she loves me" is the one who reaps the honey.

You start from a seed.
You are planted underneath.
You start in the womb.
You are planted inside.

You begin to peek.
You begin to seek.
You embrace the touch of the sun.
You embrace the cosmos.

You grow taller.
You get higher.
You extend to the horizon.
You expand your mind.

You burn brighter than the stars.
You glimmer in your colourful essence.
You outshine the rest.
You radiate the power within you.

You whither and squeal.
You long for strength.
You shrivel and burn.
You long to live.

You have bloomed
You are *doomed

Dear flower
They were wrong about you
You didn't bloom
You didn't need to
you're still beautiful
but they've ruined your image
With opportunities you were never  given
"Maybe next spring"
You hear those words over and over
There would be no other option
They've planted seeds in your mind
Of everything you've done wrong
But what about everything you've done right?
In your short life
You never reached their standards
But you've reached mine

The world around me hurt
Darkened by despair
My mind was full of dirt
So I didn’t care

The dirt was piled high
Covering my eyes
I was blind
I was blind

But now that my past self lies in his grave
The new me comes out of the womb
Now that what I was is dead
I can bloom

The world was full of pain
I cared about mine
My life was full of rain
Only in my mind

The rain started a flood
Mattered more than blood
I was sick
I was sick

But now that my past self lies in his grave
Trapped safely locked away his tomb
Now that what I was is dead
I can bloom

My life was going great
I could have had fun
If not for all my hate
Burning like the sun

Burning so hard and bright
Blocking what was right
I was mad
I was mad

But now that my past self lies in his grave
The new me comes out of the womb
Now that what I was is dead
I can bloom

I can bloom

The day of
her affair

And Poldy
-in love-
allowing it

A father invites a son
into the kitchen,
talking before
he walks
him
out

Reentering
the house at night
filled with evidence
of Boylan

Crumbs brushed
off the bed
-ten years
since-

Feet at the head
and head at the
foot, a behind
kiss to Gea-tellus

The seed planted in my chest is growing up my throat and I think a blossom is on my tongue.