No Roses, Please by Evelyn Tsai

No roses, please.
Evelyn Tsai

It starts
by growing in your stomach.
Vines reach up,
wrap around each
and every one of your ribs, and
squeeze at your lungs.
The thorns poke at your heart
and flowers bloom
in your throat,
creeping their way up.
When you open your mouth,
the petals wilt,
and they fall,
and they hit the ground as
everything you’ve ever tried to say,
but couldn’t,
dies on your lips.

 

 

 

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