my pale skin sits idle,
clean and smooth.
the blood flows orderly
in a circle
through my veins.
too long has it been kept in its narrow prison
too long has my skin lay unbroken.
the paint is drying
it won’t be good much longer now.
i itch to be broken open,
to flow and breathe the air into myself.
to feel the purple petals on the surface,
the crimson stems running down to my fingertips.
winter is over,
and with the spring
the flower will come.
clean and smooth.
the blood flows orderly
in a circle
through my veins.
too long has it been kept in its narrow prison
too long has my skin lay unbroken.
the paint is drying
it won’t be good much longer now.
i itch to be broken open,
to flow and breathe the air into myself.
to feel the purple petals on the surface,
the crimson stems running down to my fingertips.
winter is over,
and with the spring
the flower will come.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
MarieLouiseA
spency
ShelbyMarie93
lexi10824
Duckie430
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