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the smell that entrances and calms the mind at heart
the beauty that draws the eye but with the fragility of withering apart
the scenery before me on the lonesome field brings me back when i was at peace
away from my broken mind where i'm brought back to the torment of seeing my reflection covered in a dark red grease
as i lay down in the field and lose focus in the vast sky i let open the gates of emotion to flood within
for being haunted by my past yet trying to move on with regret feels only like a sin
as the days grow darker my heart grows colder from suppression i've been cursed from this path i chose for myself
being trapped in this cage of isolated beauty hurts more than the cards i've been dealt
as i roam through the hills being careful to not ruin what little heaven i have granted for days on end
i think and ponder on what i have done to gain such relief from the anger but left alone to the hands of sorrow to be condemned
life seems funny as the flowers of never ending bloom show me nothing of the illusion of peace of mind
as the days go closer to a shade of black i stumble upon a unmarked stony grave which deep inside i know its mine
the flowers i've stained along the way have long forgave me but i lied feeling their false fury
for now do be it late i can smile knowing i've been freed as i'm tranquilly buried
Even with a thousand heads and souls around me,
The thought of loneliness always resided with me
I did not intendย to fit in everyone's sizes,
Nor was I proud of the bottle that shook with rage, ready to spill
My life disintegrates within a flash of a solution
I present myself and my energy to a dull audience
But the same smiles just stare speechless, gawking at me

I paraded willfully, expressing myself through art that was repulsive to many
Yet, there were a few eyes that presentedย a beacon, despite my addictions crumbling the floor beneath me
I reached out and touched the flames that singed my hair
Till I landed on flowers
They were not the gorgeous type,
But they were just like me:
Odd, beautiful, deterring, and tiresome.

One of them shared a joke about death,
It forced a laugh out of me, till I realized today was April Fools' Day
A skull-shaped bud cries in front of me, similar to that of a child
I take in the smell of the hole I've fallen in, though the fall was cushioned by giant red flowers
As pretty as they are, their smell is who I am
I look above and see a crucifix in the sky
Then the darkness falls in, and I accept the undeniable truth by closing my eyes.
Written in honor of Rozz Williams from Christian Death
Alio May 11
When I look into the mirror for too long a see a row of cherry blossoms
My favorite tress
As my vision blurs the pink of my flesh blooms to the blossoms
my thin arms to branches and legs to stump
I am wooded
Finally I am beautiful
And the tear leaves my eye
Kassan Jahmal May 10
Garden roses
my heart is a bunch of thorns,

Sweet white Lillie
my love is of ornamental peace,

Oh my Aster
the brightest star in the dark,

My sweetest Daisy
so affectionate sweetness of your hope,

These tulips are such
a touch of my purple violence,

For blue Iris
is stuck inside of my shadowy eye,

In this paradise,
please my dearest children, keep away
all of those weeds.
Dahlia May 5
there's something about you
that buries itself in my chest
growing its roots somewhere deep inside
blooming and blossoming
reaching and tangling around my veins
wrapping its vines around my bones
spreading its pollen through my bloodstream with every gentle heartbeat
seeping through my fingers and toes
crawling up my spine and flowering in my thoughts
I carry you everywhere
and as I fall asleep at night,
I think about the way it feels
to have you next to me
I've been friends with you for what feels like forever. I wish I could tell you how I really feel, but I'm scared I'm going to ruin what we have.
Merlie T May 3
I want to be present and
thinking about the world
Not worrying about myself+my mental illness+wellbeing.
Maybe I can find that out in the flowers
Itโ€™s really not about the flowers
They might make me happy
They might look lovely
On the coffee table
When I wake up, or people come over
I might feel proud to say you got them for me
I might stop and smell them in the shop
And dream of them in our home

But itโ€™s not about the flowers
Itโ€™s about the small but
significant vow,
Itโ€™s a reminder that you think of me too
And more so an idea that you enjoy
Making me happy, its about
Not asking you to get the flowers
Because I wouldnโ€™t ask you to love me
If you didnโ€™t want to

So you see itโ€™s not about the flowers
Anastasia Apr 29
Flower growing around my wrists
Angry angry angry
Thorns cut deep into my skin
Angry angry angry
My blood is boiling
And leaking from my eyes
Red blooms blossoming from the tight cracks in my fists
Jude Quinn Apr 27
I can feel some flowers
slowly growing in my heart.
I hope they bloom
before winter comes.

The world can be such a terrifying place.
It always seems the prettiest things
are the first to disappear.

I've heard the saddest songs
that the human soul can compose.
But I've also listened to the most beautiful.

Even if the sour notes
lasted longer than the bright ones;
even if time is only measured
by the small windows
in which we can stop crying and look at the sky,

I'd never stop watering my flowers.

Because they are mine,
Because they are all my heart
and because even if life takes everything away from us,

we'll always have flowers.
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