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the flowers grow
free and wild
their poison scent
drifting and ensnaring
the passerby
sometimes i like
to sit amongst them
and pick them
rip apart their
petals and chew
them down
the taste is bitter
it bites at my mouth
the stems of the
flowers bend and
crumple beneath
my hands
the flowers are no
longer sirens
that call into air
with their scent
they are victims
that fall like soldiers
in battle