Petals of red, like bleeding hearts,
Beauty beyond depths words cannot comprehend
Winding up these bruised, scarred arms
Blooming under my skin.
They graciously show that I have beauty somewhere behind my eyes
Where their glistening black berries shine darkly
Poison runs through these now darkened violet veins,
Destroying all that seeps through its protective barrier, biting sharply.
Vines weave their way up my spine
And curl in a crown upon my tired head
Thorns to which I happen to be resilient to, prick anyone who touches
With intention to harm through love, leaving them to dread
Coming closer than arm's length.
These belladonnas are the most precious part of me,
Hugging me close, claiming me as their own,
Kissing away all the pain that leaks into my heart's mausoleum
And pulling me away from the terrifying abyss which I call home.
I am content with these belladonnas underneath the scars
Winding tight and snug, poison shredding and boiling my blood,
Proving to me that beauty lies within not only heart, but care
While I am suffocated by these vines' crushing hug.
