I have gardens thriving in my veins
fertilized by the ashes of too many
unspoken goodbyes and watered by tears.
The ghosts of the people I never got
enough time to love, rent out space
in my heart and tend to the thorns
so my wrists stay sewn shut this time around.
I am made of olive branches and
goddamn heavenly roses tended by angels
and from now on Sorrow
has no power over me.
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