i began to fear the feeling of being
full. felt flowers sprout in my belly, but
could not figure out how to get them out.
i wanted to be covered in beautiful things,
let them bloom from my skin and turn myself
into a garden. maybe then i could see my veins
as roots and curves as tulips. my eyes would become
sunflowers and my lips strawberries, sweet and easily
consumed. i opened wide, expecting vines to
escape and grow around my limbs.
instead only a whisper emerged, for i was
too timid to roar.