Waste

I have a lot of flowers in my head, they have all rooted and rotted to my skull.
You used to be one of them, remember the bloom?
When you were at my back door and I let you in.
You, didn’t know did you?
Just what you did to me.
Let me be.
I have a lot of branches in my lungs, piercing the walls and pressuring me to
talk.
You were one of those trees, remember your rings?
When I was laying outside and you were towering me.
I found insects in my heart, eating away and tearing at the muscle.
You’re all of them, and it makes me sick.
Remember my moan?
And how I shook?
Just how I shook.