Flowers on my stomach
I am flawless.
With flowers covering my skin from him
I drug myself out of a bloody garden
Too late however, the colors were imprinted
On my neck, , stomach.
A garden bloomed on my chest.
The flowers have faded, my mind, and heart have healed.
Powerless no more, I can hold my own
I stand on two feet as a witness
To harsh brutality
And to the flowers at my doorstep, after he painted my skin with his hands,
After he painted my mind with ugly words, then dribbled a string of affections
To cover the scars.
His words can't touch me anymore.
His hands cannot touch anything but bars,
I have freed myself from the hands
Of malice
I am flawless
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