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My Body Has a Garden

My gut grew sweet alyssum and daisies

while the roots perched firmly in my flesh.

It grew a garden

For the sole reason "butterflies."


My inner thigh trembled 

While my eyes held baskets 

that made my face shine like pearls

with stagnant beads of sweat, glowing.


My teeth were soldiers,

guarding my secret

while it burnt my tongue

And my chest.

Yet, the garden flourished.

Every look, every touch

watered the flesh-deep roots.


Stay strong, soldier.

But my teeth broke.

And let my secret out.

I threw up diamonds

and jewels.

I coughed out pearls.




It is not foreign to have this sense of protecting your thoughts rather than letting them out to save them from judgment and unwanted remarks. They can be the simplest things, like having a crush on someone or having a secret hobby. Nevertheless, a vulnerable point arrives that will push you towards an explosion. It might be pouring your heart out to a friend or family or maybe just a strong, blunt confession.


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