Your roots have overgrown you,
And sprouted up around
Your legs,
Torso, arms,
They’ll soon reach your
Delicate neck.
Did I say delicate?
Wrong word choice,
The correct term is
Harsh.
Worn.
Maybe ruined.
Weeds have burst from behind your eyes,
And grown over your once rosy cheeks,
Now dirtied with soil and greens.
Your once beating heart is consumed
By thorns.
The roses from that bush
Are not present.
The thorns are sharp,
And they pierce the organ
You used to need.
Your body has been tainted
With mold.
Your hands no longer can hold,
For they have begun to shrivel from
Spending too much time
In a puddle of water.
Don’t worry though,
You don’t need anything
Once you’re dead in your
Grave.