Flowers grow in the carcass of what you left,
Camellias bloom in my lungs with each breath I take;
desperately heaving, weeping, I'm a victim of theft.

Roses rise from the hole in my chest,
their prickly stems stab me, blood mixing with tears...
though, in your heart, I'm just a guest

Too young to feel this dead inside, Amaranthus flowers
still sprout within my soul, will these dark clouds
ever leave? You built me up in into glass towers.

It's the hemlock that dives in my blood.
My mind mirrors the smashed pieces of glass on the ground,
I'd love you if only it would,
fix the broken parts of your world.

i don’t trust you with myself ..
anymore ,

unfurled -
the ocean laps at my feet
as you wish to
gaze upon girls ...
—
all
perfect flowers .
                            .

you say that you understand , and
that you hate it when i do that.
.
but i think you’re drowning ,
and i guess ,
this means you don’t want saving ...

do you think —
you’ll still love me ,
even if i make
your face bleed all blue?

you tell me that i’m wrong,
in a way that should make me feel
stupid.

i feel angry instead.

you were the moon
i love how you bloom
take me to mars
and i’ll give you the stars

tomorrow will be good
for the sun will shine
and the flowers
will not wither
the river
will flow
and i will
stay as
the calm
air

i wanna live
out of my world
conquer all the different worlds
make dazzling displays
as i look into your eyes
now we collide
like mountains
of the everest
highest of it
deepest
as the
trench

i felt lonely
felt like a ghoul
in the human world
but how could
a human deserve the
world
and we do not?
two should not,
but both should be
so half of half
shall be one
mixed
tantrums
mixed chaos
love
hate
it all falls in one

Do birds question their existance?
Do bees think they're alive?
Does the walrus fight the resistance?
Do horses just survive?

Does the grass give a rat's ass?
Do the trees even care?
Do the shrubs think the bushes are crass?
Do the flowers curse and swear?

Do the rolling plains feel plain?
Do the mountains feel like a molehill?
Does the ocean just go through the motion?
Do the valleys lay in alleys like road kill?

Does the Earth feel worth?
Does Uranus feel hanus?
Does Jupiter hate its girth?
Saturn can stick it's moons up it's anus!

Our Universe is the worst!

If I hug you tighter, will I imprint you in my arms?
So I can carry you with me,
past the heavens,
past the rain,
past the pain.

I’ll hold your every ache on my back,
till I turn to cosmic dust.
When I seize to exist,
is the only time you can leave me in the mist.

I know that’s selfish of me,
but you I truly need.
Don’t forget you’re the one who told me my mind plays tricks on me.
You’re the one who told me to go grow on my own.

You said you’d always be there,
and I’m not letting you go,
before I let go.

One day we’ll shine down with the stars together,
and join the sun feeding all your favorite roses,
but till that day the soils are our home,
no matter where the other goes.

under the lake we were we
under the lake we sang about
than we then sang we sang we
what were we talking about then
what were we talking about then about
what were we then and when

under the lake shining where all around
flowers alone flowers and roses and moons on meadows
about the circle about where the
lake is where the lake is in the wilderness
about what we sang with you about what we were
about what we sang with you about what we went about

18.09.18

Flowers make anything beautiful. That's why we have them at funerals.

my guy pretty like a girl
electric soul, gentle touch
velvet skin, unfinished lunch
violets grow in the valleys of his ribcage
forget-me-nots blossom on her skin every night,
the places on her skin where his fingers last fell,
when the sun was alive
sunflowers hiding in her short blonde hair
daisies intertwined in moments shared
the boy wants to predict the weather
but in this garden of wild flowers
and wild thoughts
it never rains
the flowers keep on growing
occupying the holes in her chest
where there once was pain
his words as sweet as honeysuckle,
the soil
her blood as red as roses,
the rain