A petite mess of style and substance. A Melbourne writer. A controversial bitch daring you to see our world differently.

The girl with flowers in her ribcage

skeleton flowers

There were flowers in her ribcage

A garden in her soul

Roses, lilies and leaves

Nestled amongst her bones

A bed of beauty and nature

Twirling up her spine

Tiny thorns and small stalks

Harvesting on each vertebrae

Patches of floating colour

Where organs ought to be

Her entire body was a labyrinth

Of whimsical foliage and greenery

Her paradise sprouted tenderness

And blossomed with infinite joy

She planted seeds of love

That grew roots inside countless hearts

Eventually turning into daises

Beneath their own, trusting skin

Yet no one picked the petals

Or counted them one by one

For it was plain to see

That she already loved them.




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