Flower Dreams

Dreaming forests of flowers, razed to the ground, fire rains down on a desolate place, once lush, now erased

The flower trees wilting, filling me with the chilling cold eyes of the old dead bodies in the mold growing like French fries, the anxiety’s building, a killing of ourselves, festering molesting me, caressing what’s left of me, on shelve's of body parts, life’s no longer blessing me, billing god our spirits, death's art, hear it screaming bloody murder, smell the stench vomiting suspense on the back burner, feel it on my skin sucking blood like a leech from within

Yelling as nobody hears, dreaming about fears that appear like the real deal in the mirror

Smash it, mash it into a paste and erase the monsters, the truth I face and me with it

Admit it, the curse, and lift it, gift this burden to someone else, I don’t want it myself

My health is declining, whining about signing away what remains of the once green plains I wandered with memories fonder than a bond or rose, grab the hose, It hasn’t seen rain in a thousand days

A maze of feelings, a daze of dust nothing left but death no longer robust as my mind rusts in the downpour of hate, the shape rotted from the inside like the conscious of my mind

It’s too late to protect them, can’t correct the mistakes I made as their life fades, the things I should have done, the blood that runs, because of a cowardly son, remembering how I should have stood instead of run, dismembering the words I couldn’t share from my lungs

The wings on my back can’t help me fly away from things like facts, can’t crack through the walls of the past, I’m like a church with no mass, an egg never hatched, a house made of glass, a movie no cast, a runner in last, a fire no match, a prisoner gassed, when they attacked I just ran, fast, and cashed in on the luck of the dice, the price of not fighting for human rights, flying out of sight

But it seems my wingspan wasn’t enough to land me away from that worthlessness

Cursed with this, wishing I could just start peeling off the façade of following laws and fighting the misfortune I saw

But those people were ripped raw and no god saved them, neither did I

Even now I wonder why I let them die, my insides poisoned, I could have at least tried, I backed down because of a f*****g stomach ache, makes me realize how my life is a mistake, I need a break from this clay make

Earthquakes break down my fake courage

With a misogynistic fate, my best friends were raped

There was no pride, riding away into the sunset without them, my eyes are wet, my hands are dry, no wonder I got pinned with the lies

I feel the shame and the blame in this game, and my eyes are raining, dark drops of blood, cloudy insane tornado, thunder, ripping me asunder, it rumbles as I’m bumbling, stumbling, mumbling, crumbling I’m pulled under by the selfish devilish hellish hate I have for you, me and the others it’s humbling

I can never be free of the choices that made me, I shoulder this weight, knowing that I should have shouted you out when I felt pain, instead of behaved like I’m a slave

I cannot believe you broke me, so I pretend I was hardened by the fire that burned the past to ash

I’m a liar, I talk higher than Everest but I’m never just like I say, I replay the scenes I made and try to repay my weakness pretending I seek this valour, but I’m a freak gone sour, every hour I’m reminded how I lost

The flower of new dreams are wilting cold in the frost, cost my freedom and theirs

We both belong in a hearse, the very worst, cursed in rot but not the first, a sack of apathy about to burst

Because I backed down, not a man around, just a f*****g clown sounds like I always was a joke even before I spoke in this town, a mound of s**t on the ground

Soaking in the sorrow, borrow tomorrow but it can’t bring back yesterday, it’s gone away forever, and I’ll never remember what I missed, a f*****g bucket list pissed it all down the drain like red rain full of human suffering and pain

I don’t want to be around this s**t, the facts that follow and attacks me from behind my back as I run away from the path, packing what’s left of my cracked dream of flowers, I was a coward

 My fist is clean of blood, no mud, no piety, I think about it for hours every day, don’t know why it couldn’t be me, instead of them

But the anxiety’s building, and I’m killing the people I needed to protect, the blood is spilling and growing flowery nightmares as my gears are turning into dust in these empty wasteland plains

I must dream of flowers, here the dirt’s full of bodies and hurt has burnt up like fire and hardened me

Made me glitter like a diamond in the rough, but I gave up my stones, my poems let me talk about their pain

But it will never be enough, I should snuff the embers and flames that burned down their flower trees, but the forest is diseased now because I can’t believe in weaving new flower dreams

It seems like the leftover debris not charred by the flames cannot please their souls

So I’ll take a mouthful of the truth, disdain and swallow it all, follow the flowers on the graves

The past has been razed, and I’m just grazing on the memories, as I obey the deaths of these ones like destiny, like what’s left of me deserves to stay when it was me who should have gone away

I betrayed them, and flower dreams are afraid today under the bend of death’s hand rending the last flower from my grasp

Flower dreams are smoke from the flames, and so is the past, it’s just the same, my flowers turned to ash, reality isn’t worth cash and I will mash and bash in your future until I crash into a reason for living again

Until then, I’m giving my flower dreams back into the dirt, I’ll let them grow on the blood, the violence and hurt

Because we weren’t there for the last ones

But I’m growing new flower dreams for the next ones

And when they want to have some fun again, I’ll sacrifice their chained remains for my wilted flower friends to grow strong again, all the same, a floral tombstone for the slain

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[Victoria Westing Haddix]

omg awesome I LOVE YOUR WORK. M

[Victoria Westing Haddix]

WOW! Yout have such a talent. And my friend says..."You write to long and I didn't read all of it, but what I did read, was cool! WRITE MORE PLS!" aAnd I say yes, pls write more!

[wordman]

interesting out look i suppose,enjoyed the write

[Victoria Westing Haddix]

SON OF A B**** THIS PERSON(WHO EVER HE/SHE IS) IS AWESOME. SO SHUT YO F****** MOUTH B****

[Victoria Westing Haddix]

YOU TELLING ME F**K ME S**T HEAD IM NOT THE ONE WHO WROTE SUCH A F*****G S****Y PEICE OF TRASH. SO F**K YOU B***H

[wordman]

get started when ur ready,i will get a two by four to keep me from falling in