pieceocake

i. Roses She breathes through tattered lungs & with every inhale that pierces through her she coughs up thorns, telling herself that she's used to the taste of her own blood but her teeth are starting to ache as pain wraps itself around her tongue & you could hand her the shears but she refuses to take them, too scared of how much it would hurt to heal ii. Clematis I trace the v(ei/i)n(e)s curling up her willowy wrists, my whispers dropping into her lap like stones (and she wraps her fingers around them, studies them with amethyst eyes) words flower from her lips. Faerie girl, I bloom into her embrace and thread my confessions in