Blossoms of Wrath

The aftermath of an understanding
is what exactly?
Not enough time to productively be destructive.
What contours of mistakes have I constructed?
What’s the lead in to the true story?
Of a blown down house,
sought by no reporters
Winding evidence Of a breaking heart...
Do you need a clue? (Fixation)
To how you affected my ecosystem
A salty wash dampens my irises
While the petals stay scented and sweet
My stem untouched and my pollen unbecoming.
But what became of me you ask,
a garden drying.
Wilting because of a pistil stolen
by stingers to sell for honey
And all they’ve wanted,
to spread the seed.
Upset by what,
The dirty truth
It’s all we need
Go ahead and make like a tree
Who needs gravity?
I hope you weren’t expecting
Any Sympathy.