i asked you why.
i asked you why i didn't bleed blood.
why did i bleed lumpy throats, shivering bodies in the summer, and uncontrollable heavy breathing?
you told me that i was special. that i was different.
i asked you why i spit fast heartbeats, voices that shake, and eyes looking down instead of sunflower seeds.
you told me i was special.
i asked you why my stomach held a billion moths disguised as butterflies that beat my organs every time i had to walk down a hallway full of people, ask someone for a pencil, or answer the phone.
you told me it was beautiful.
and i thought, what's so beautiful about that? but you convinced me somehow, and now look.
you're
still
here.
YOU ARE READING
nervous lungs.
Poetry"you planted f l o w e r s in my l u n g s but you weren't there to water them..." - lowercase intended.
