(10) Growth

(10) Growth

God
has upcycled all of my organs
into flower beds.

I've been swallowing seeds
and breathing spores
for years now.

It's only a matter of time
before my insides all begin to bloom
with cancer.

You tell me that I'm
(twenty-two) young for this
exquisite paranoia.

You say that God finds
old abandoned city plots
to start His gardens in.

You say I should not
make it sound
so beautiful.

I'm sorry, friend
I'd only hoped you'd stay
just long enough to watch with me.

I never meant to interrupt
your morning walk
with talk of such exotic flowers.