I remember to wither in your gaze,

Burnt ‘til brittle.

My worth measured in ashes

Left scattered in the dirt.

I am left to fertilize the

ground for whoever is next,

Fresh soil hiding a barren landscape.

Inevitably, it will happen,

Someone will find themselves

Lured to the bed…

And you will wait,

And wait,

And wait for their roots to sink in

Deep within the cracks of bedrock,

Fastening them down, their

Petals in full bloom before

Wrapping your vines around their stem,

Tightening until you can feel

Every subconscious movement,

And drain them of every ounce

They call their own.

I’ve been asked what was wrong,

Why I’ve changed, but

Never by loved ones.

They don’t need to ask;

even the dead tell stories.