Hanahaki

petals in my hand- 

they came from my throat

I'm coughing up flowers, 

this i can't sugarcoat

pink roses painted red

from a blood that will stain

a deadly disease-

which stemmed from my brain

thorns in my lungs

choking me out

I'd rather die than confess-

I'll say that without doubt. 

seeds of love were strewn deep

but left there to wither

honestly, fuck cupid

with that dumb bow and quiver.