Dry flower

Scorch my heart, fiery fiend,

Break the bones of my bad back to lay them bare.

Latch on to my eyes like tarp, like sludge, like muck,

Quarantined and devoid of air.


Me, the sitting duck.

Me, the unprepared, the crushed. Velvet blood core.

And you, no heart, no bones, no eyes, no breath,

Are cherished dust, a memory.


Take me to shore,

And cut my cold hair.

Rid me of this harrowing treachery,

My senses beat to death.


Dry me like a flower, strip me naked,

Take everything you see fit,

Even my mind, I'll let you break it.

Ruin me, see if I care.


Anything to hear your voice again,

Burn me to the ground, if you dare.

Fallen too far, knees shattered and bent, 

Now I only beg you to help it all make sense, 


Pick me up withered, a flower so dry,

As I ask for one last sound, 

One last cry with my dear old friend,

Just one world paradox, once before the end.


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