You’re Satan’s lover
You have to be because I haven’t met anyone as evil as you
I stumbled upon you
It’s the one regret I  will always have
Because you sneaked your way in
And you clutched tight
Worn down but I still fought
And tried to rip you off
But your lies made sense in my mind
And for a while I  let you stay
But you hurt me again
Then whispered in my ear another time
And for a while I let you stay
Because I once thought of you as mine
Now I want you to be ****** to hell
And I want to be the one to do it
I’ve waited so long for my freedom
And now I have it
But I no longer seek to be free
I’m too broken from rescuing myself
My hands tattered and ******
Eyes wet with tears
Lips scowled in pure rage
My mind blank with nothing but the thought of your face
******
Bruised
Scarred
And your mind
Broken
Your pride
Destroyed
Your voice
Gone
Your fear
At an all time high
I wanted you to feel the same way I did so bad
But now that I’ve done it
I realized that this is my greatest accomplishment in life
And I  have nothing left to look at
And to think of myself
But a wilted flower
Who tried her best to stay alive

Flowers wander the seasons still
Lusting towards light, an aromaesthetic full bloom

In the coming chill and gloam rolls a fog,
dark and blight, bringing a slow collapse of skeleton

Lifeblood eclipsed with gloom and brume,
imbue faded with wane and wither

There is strength to a wilted flower
now blind to it's blush whorl, a spinning gown

Head held heavy
but still being held

Eyes rose tinted delusions that stem on the everyday,
liquid figments smile on her minds exhaling breath
of what is contaminated texts of what her sight read.

She digs in the garden to bury her pain, the leafs are
falling on her memory as she fills in the graves of so
many that were never real just empty caskets of thought.

Her world was of roses that sat on the window fresh
with eager pleasing to the eye. But it was withered and
decayed as were her expectations of mundane  life.

She was temptation upon her self, lingering on past
appearances that had faded like seasons. Hers was that
time when everything wilted, denial tinted in eyes everyday.

The guy picked a flower in the garden
He took it carefully into his nose
Inhaled, it deeply and smiled
I wish I was the flower

The photographer kneeled before the flower bed
Take a snap and another after another
He looks at the photos admirably
Adoring its colors, glorifying its beauty
I wish I was the flower

A lover bought a dozen of flowers
He caresses the bouquet carefully
Caring like it was a delicate glass
I wish I was the flower

Flowers in the vase
Day after day after days
The flowers turned old and ugly
The next thing I knew
Flowers were in the bin along with other waste

That's when I knew... I am the flower