By Katelynn Paluch

there are so many things i want to say


i am scared of letting anyone love me
because i cannot give enough back
you will pluck wildflowers from my locks and wish for roses
i have not been cultivated for the pleasure of men,
merely a botanist’s pipedream
you will bloom and i will drown in your dismal deceptions
you will leave all purple piety
i will pretend it doesn’t sting


i can’t love you how you want me to
my mind is tangled in silver strands
fragile limbs snap and echo my nightmares
i cannot ruin another best thing so i let you prattle on
make believe we are in Tokyo
when i’m clear cut crisscrossed in Quebec
you catch the plane and I’m left on the strip,
smiling up at the tiny speck you’ve become


i cannot take any more of this death photography
i refuse to post last words yet they haunt my dreams
i wake up and my bed is on the ceiling,
crash landing into an early grave
where my skin is jellyfish squish, absorbing non-niceties
they travel to my heart, make a home of termite rot,
and here is an examination of me
a perfect environment for parasites to breed

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