In Bloom

It begins as a small seed

Lodged in your ear

Blocking all sound

Soon, the roots spread

 

Little brown threads reach down into the canal

Tiny points sink into the spongy flesh

They spread like veins

Spiderwebbing and marbling the skin

The roots reach deeper

Tips plunge into the brain

Sinking deeper

Deeper

Deeper

Slowly twining toward the bottom

And coming to wrap around the brain stem

 

The roots spread to the spine

Winding down

Like the stripes on a barber shop pole

Tiny brown veins hit the tailbone

And intertwine with the red vessels nearby

 

Your body becomes all root

And you are sucked dry

Your skin grows grey

Your eyes droop

Your nose breaks off in a mass of black

And your tongue is nothing but mush in your mouth

 

Muscles drag lethargic

You raise an arm

And your flesh is nothing but little lines

Like cracks of dark lightning

Spread across dying flesh

 

But out of one ear

The one not in a state of decay

The one that does not stink of death

The one that does not threaten to crumble from your head

Has sprouted the most brilliant flower

And you stare in the mirror

Or pretend you can

Through blind eyes sucked dry

You feel it with numb, rotted fingers

Dried by the blackened vessels running through

But dead fingers feel nothing but a void

 

You know the petals are there

They have a heft

One that drags your limp, peeling neck

To its side with a violent crack

 

But the flower

Beautiful, you’re sure

If you could hear

All you’d hear were praises

 

You imagine

Petals of brilliant colors

Peeling away to reveal an even more glorious inside

 

But instead

You sit

Unfeeling

Unseeing

Unhearing

Unsmelling

Untasting

Unthinking

Unliving

And the flower

You think

You hope

You pray

Might just be in bloom.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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