Flowers
GILT, Tyler Fieldhouse
You paint flowers on the parts of yourself you don’t like
I spent some time pulling thorns out of my side
And don’t you ever get sick
Of being right about it?
You burn the candle to the quick
Broke the glass and try to melt that
Like it’d grow back if you didn’t
A lot’s changed but you peel back the new growth
Crush the scraps underfoot until it’s comfortable
How can you haunt yourself if you’re never home?
Written lists on your skin
You still don’t know where to go