If I was a flower
you'd cut away my roots.
You want me to survive,
but only on your terms,
only in your specially crafted vase.
It closes in on my stem
yet leaves just enough room for you to trick me
into believing I'm free.
If I was a flower
you'd pluck away my thorns
in hopes of leaving me defenseless:
naked and vulnerable,
and forced to depend on you.
If I was a flower
you'd pour food coloring into my water
because you only think I should live
if I can be beautiful for you.
If I was a flower,
I'd starve myself so I'd wilt and you'd throw me away.
If I was a flower,
I'd root myself in the midst of the junkyard
because ugly dirt with room to grow
will nourish me better than a beautiful vase
that cuts off my circulation.
If I was a flower,
I think I’d see things more clearly.