Category: Me

Another poem about orchids

He gave me an orchid flower on my birthday It stayed alive even though my insides were rotten I abandoned it Once home I felt estranged Stockholm syndrome? I replaced it with another I feel like it understood in every sense of the way that it had to wither in

reiterate

your putrid soul spread into me and I can never scrub my self clean again

PROUD

was the only one that knew
how hard it is to live with a future so bleak.

The biggest secret

We are a lot and we are not alone

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