A/N: Yup. This is the sort of poem where you write the first stanza, then the rest, and delete the first stanza, because it didn't fit anymore.

…..

Don't want to sit in gardens

If they're tamed with clippers and walls

Where it's all fertilizer and pruning

Where I can barely breathe at all

..

I need a place with crumbling stone

And overgrown bushes and briars

Somewhere I can cry in peace

And free myself from the fire

..

Nothing sharper than thorns

And the bitterness I hold

Blood like roses and irises

Is this the way my life unfolds?

..

Flowers gone out of control

The grass is brown and sere

Where the trees are tall and old

And the wind's the only thing to hear

..

Where my blood will do some good

Not just sate my pathetic need

Where death and life give rise to each other

A place where I can bleed

..

No-one can see me but the sky

And maybe God is watching from above

I don't feel so guilty here

I water the plants with tears and blood

…

Whoa, I didn't mean for it to be so dark!