my bed of flowers is woven from wilted tulips and broken roses
tightened nooses and lovely poses right underneath our noses
scribbling notes on the pedals of ghost orchids and sweet violets
and using them to hide from deep blue irises and heart string viruses
i broke the daisies next and sliced a narcissus
im a narcissist who’s been choking on my Baby’s breath
And i might breathe
If i survive the chrysanthemums inside my poison IVs
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