what doesn’t kill us, lingers

lavender blossoms
incite resplendence
in wilted remorse

heavy blooms hang
along turbulent schisms
carving tender flesh
from marrow leaking
hollow boned denials

lost in dysmorphia
myopic heartshatter
in glittering hail

a rusted switchblade
in aortic trembling
an intrusion of terror
as kiss shaped scars pulsate
sultry reminders relating
to a sorrowful relapse
while lavender bursts
ripple across the silence
in sublimated rebirth

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