My Garden

My skin is like a garden; I keep digging up the dirt,

Just to see my red roses grow, but then. I hid them under my shirt,

I don’t show anyone my flowers; the beauty is just for me. even if I don’t see beauty

within the seeds,

In other people’s eyes, they are just ugly weeds,

It’s a release to dig up my garden, but… the ground will never be the same.

My roses are filled with darkness,

And nobody knows how I feel.