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Someone New
Sudently I feel the need to lay
Act as stone
Let the moss take over my bones
Watch the wild flowers sprout from my lungs
Rooting me to my place of rest
Stitching me down
Tangle my heart
Feed off my blood
Make me pretty once more
Before I simply become a memory
For now, I am someone new
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I love making tragic things beautiful and in this poem I made imagery of death feel pretty. However the idea of something beautiful sprouting from a tragedy doesn't only apply to death. What does it mean to you?