dear god of flowers
why did you not make me a daisy?
was my body destined too much bone
and not enough nerve
that I could not have instead been a flower.
I dress my legs in green pants,
if i stand with them straight together
and take my glasses off
they could look like stem from 10 feet back.
I dress my shoulders and waist in floral prints;
one of my favorite tank tops that doesn’t fit
anymore has daisies on it
it was expensive for how thin it is
so i’ll probably never throw it away.
oh you god of green and god of petal
how come I cant be in your kingdom this time?
why is it that im stuck with blood instead of chlorophyll?
I’m pretty sure no one means it personally when they mow down a daisy that strayed into the yard
and I think they’re only being shortsighted
when they pluck those ripe tender little bodies up
and pull them apart piece by piece,
wrongly assuming that daisy knows the human world
and could tell you anything about love.
but I’m pretty sure i will get mowed down anyway
and I know it will be a tragedy
and I know it will be personal
and I wonder
if I die in this way:
fast and violent and choppy and tragic,
or will it be slowly
piece by piece
people looking for someone to love them
throwing me away as they figure it out.
oh god of trees
why could I not stand in your forests?
why could I not reach into the depths of the soil with my tenfold hands?
root down deep and breathe even
at six feet under;
would it be careless of me
to lie flat on my back among the birches
shut my eyes so hard they go blurry
and when I open them
see only leaves.
could I drop my jaw at the maples,
let the raw sap fill me up
because I have no patience for sweetness.
oh what would it be
if I stood in the grass with my hands up
letting the light bake into my pores
bark does not worry about sunburn,
bark does worry about bleeding,
bark does not cringe when it tears,
shall I not be an oak:
shake out my rusty leaves and drop acorns for the squirrels and witches
shall I not stand at 40 feet,
limbs too high for children to climb
to be hugged and protected
to be the strongest fragility
if I can choose,
into an evergreen
so that I may be surrounded by green
by dusky sweetness
to shake my firs and be blanketed in snow
I wish to be evergreen,
I wish to be yours