Sprouted in hate, watered by pain,
My roots got deeper in soils of shame,
I reached out to the sky panic-stricken.
As you did your little gardening,
Dug into me and planted a few seeds.
Leaves me green with how shit/sick I feel,
No complaint; what’s a plant without chlorophyll?
Looking forward to brighter colours,
Maybe I could regain some honour,
But you kept digging, planting few seeds.
Fertilized me with the manure of fear,
Pruned me with the shears of dread,
Gradually I bloomed into a bloodflower.
You were first my father, but more a farmer.
Cos you dug into me and planted a few seeds.
And like every beautiful flower,
I seemed good to the looker,
And everyone took turns plucking,
Not minding if it left me bleeding.
But with each drip, I plant a new seed.
It’s only overthinking crises daily,
It’s only an obnoxious cleanliness disguise,
It’s only an over consciousness disgust,
It’s only obsessive-compulsive disorder,
It’s only a seed you planted. It’s only OCD!
Let’s meet for coffee or go for a stroll.