Foxgloves by Sammie M.


(12 ratings)
Rate this Poem (5 best)

 

Did it beat a little more strangely
When they came for you?
You tell me that the blood pumps harder,
Faster,
When they look at you.
For sure, the racing never slowed down when they cut you,
Bruised you,
Pumped poisons made from flowers round your veins.
And I called to find out how they'd hurt you,
And you told me you were better...
..so long as they stopped looking,
poking,
prodding
at you.
Measuring the racing while you watched it creeping up,
And they came to you with flowers once again.

You taught me they were poison in the garden,
Hanging their delicate heads,
All pink with shame.
But now I know that curses can be blessings;
And we sit and watch the flowers once again.