Petals by the Pounds

Being loved by you is a responsibility.
Every pretty little blossom flowering in your heart is a leaden weight on my shoulders,
An expectation hidden under each petal,
The pollen, powder fine consequences.
Floating on gentle swoons they impregnate the farthest reaches of that thumping organ.
Can you not see every flighty flower of yours I wear as a burden?
That in your thoughtless heart throb you read me wrong and labeled me beautiful.
Keep pounding your sweet nectar down my throat.
Each choking drop goes against me, bringing you closer to disillusion.
Your sweet nothings are more burning poisonous words.
They make me quiver and leave me weary.
I am not your little flower.
I am scarred, and battered, and wilting.
Your assumptions mar me more.
Keep them to your own and spare me these extra pounds.