The Flowers Are Murderous

Excellence Award in the 'Word Zone 2016' competition

I cried out in the dark for him
The love that nearly flew.
He held my hand and kissed my cheek
As my lungs turned purple/blue.

I threw him from the balcony
One day my luck ran out
And through all the raging red
I heard my lover shout.

He was tangled in the garden hedge
His skin torn all around.
But as he lay there bleeding
We didn't make a sound.

He didn't tell me in that moment
About the garden shears
But I guess you tend to die a bit
When it's your spine it spears.

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