A/N It's really late and I can't sleep because of the unbearable heat so you get a poem woohoo....
They curl around
Twisting around my bones
Entangling my lungs
Stems emerged from my deepest desires
Thorns embedding into my flesh
Ripping
Sweet roses bloom
Petals the colour of scarlet
The colour of my bleeding heart
They grow
Taller, higher
Crawling up my throat
My airway is blocked
Clogged with bittersweet love
Unrequited love
I can't breathe
It hurts so bad
But these bruised petals won't leave
They only grow
Spreading
Until I can't hold it back any longer
It escapes from behind my throat
And between my teeth
I'm coughing
The blood
There's so much blood
My body wracks with another bout of coughs
Bruised petals go flying
Scattering across the cold floor
This love
It's painful
But I can't help it
The thorns are only sharpening
Digging deeper into my lungs
Wrapping, constricting
There are more flowers now
My heart is being torn apart
My only remedy
Is that stupid smile
That ridiculous laugh
Their goofy face...
My mind is becoming fuzzy
Fires are blazing through my veins
Thorns pierce my flesh
Stems whipping through the air
Lungs and heart bursting
In a flurry of scarlet petals
My last memory is seeing their eyes
Gleaning with tears
Shining like a cracked mirror
Everything is numb
My heart no longer hurts
I feel like a wisp of air
If only I could have seen that smile one last time...
A/N If you couldn't tell already, this poem was inspired by the fan made hanahaki disease. The hanahaki disease occurs when a person feels one-sided love for another, if that love is not returned or quenched then flowers grow in the host's throat or lungs causing them to cough up petals. If it goes on for long enough, the host dies. That's also why the poem is titled "Single Rose" like as in they're single, hahaha, get it? .... *cough* *cough*
I've realized a lot of my poems follow the same format/structure and I don't really like it because it feels way too repetitive to me so I'm going to try and mix it up a bit.
Anyway, that's all for now. Sorry about the long author's note and have a good day (night if you're an insomniac like me)!
أنت تقرأ
Witching Hour: Lost in Thought
الشعرTitled "Witching Hour" because most of my poem ideas come to me way past midnight when I'm trying to sleep. The topics are pretty diverse, but there are definitely things I write about more often than others. Also If you don't like the first few...
