Strange Flowers

Are the ones you didn’t know you shouldn’t touch. If you get close, you’ll prick your finger and your drunken blood will gush out of a hole that never clots right – too few platelets to stop up and you’ll wish that you’d never noticed how the moonlight strikes the petals – you’ll wish that you’d followed orders and found some nice girl that settles all the rumbling in your stomach and the pain behind your eyes. But you were made to cut down flowers – watch them wilting and then die right in your hand that won’t stop bleeding. There is something they are needing that your rough touch can’t abide – strange flowers on the highway, don’t pull over  if you drive past poppies planted by some prisoners to make amends with states. And you’re still bleeding and it’s your fault and the flower blew away when it heard that you would keep it on a shelf inside a vase and you kill everything you touch (even the things you wanted safe). Strange flowers. Must mean nothing. So very, very strange.


~ by perfectionatrix on December 6, 2015.

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