secret garden

when the moon becomes full

my body becomes a garden of flowers

colorless shapes of petals in the dark

blooming across my ribs, my hips

i watch the petals breathe, in all their violet carnage

and wish i would breathe no more

when the sun wakes up

i‘ll get up, and watch the petals fall from my frame

settle into my cemetery of a bedroom floor

i collect corpses of flowers

and photographs that don’t belong to me

my father is allergic to flowers

i think that’s why he doesn’t come say goodnight anymore

it’s just me and the strangers taped to my walls

and all the flowers i watch blossom and die every night

wishing i would die with them

but i don’t

it is a painful, painful existence