to all of those petals (you know who you are)

your lies are like petals picked from the most poisonous flower

A flower I could sit and listen to for hours

the more I listen the more you pick, and you cast them over me like stars in the darkest sky.

and they land,

and they stick,

and they puncture me,

and they drain form me the sweetest honey

those petals aren't soft 

and neither are your lies 

I can see them in your eyes 

the more you pick and cast the more I recognize

that I could never pick a petal from that flower

and cast it at anyone other.  

  

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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