Innocent Flowers


My voice surprised me when it tumbled out

Of the back of my closet with the vinyl’s

They have never felt a needle,

So very different from me,

Bleeding to learn how to stop bleeding

Holding my breath in order to catch it

Nothing dies in the garden where I bury myself

Flowers bloom and blossom from my tomb

I could be those flowers wrapped in damp tissue

I could be flowers of apology for who I used to be


Published at The Wagon Magazine